Caput Sihil
by lone-star-woman
Summary: Post Children of Earth AU fix-it. **SPOILERS for CoE** General plot: Ianto Jones falls asleep in a London hotel room only to wake up on a different planet in the 33rd Century. Now complete with an epilogue! yay
1. Prologue

**A/N:** I know that I have a series of episode codas that I should be working on, but Children of Earth happened. I got upset and began writing something else. The following is a preview of my post CoE AU fic, written to introduce two major players who will shape our favorite teaboy's future. The rest of the fic will be from Ianto's POV.

* * *

**Mona Cavendish**

She loves humanity. No one could dispute that -- even those who challenged her methods. She has fought tooth and nail to get to a position where she could help humans thrive.

After all, life is all there is. Life is what truly matters, and she was proud to offer life to her city and to the human race no matter where they found themselves. It isn't about a god complex; she's just doing her part.

So when she comes across a man like Jack Harkness, how could she not be intrigued by the life that courses through his body? It was her duty to keep him under her watch so that she could study him for the benefit of mankind. He just needed the right incentive to stay.

"Ms. Cavendish?"

She looked up to face her assistant. "Yes, Claudia?"

"We've secured the body from UNIT. It's en route to Dr. Ortega as we speak."

"Thank you."

"Anything else, Ms. Cavendish?"

"Yes. Inform Captain Harkness, and call him to my office."

"Yes, ma'am," Claudia says as she scurries out the room. Timid, little thing. What's gotten into her lately?

Ms. Cavendish looks out her window. It begins to rain, but that's just life falling from the sky.

* * *

**Dr. X. Ortega**

Huddled in the corner and seated on the floor, she watches the man in the tank floating in preservation fluid with electrodes strapped to his skin and a breathing tube shoved down his throat.

She made him.

When she began the process, she knew that it was theoretically possible, and she jumped at the chance to try. She always loved challenges, puzzles… crafts.

Now, seeing him floating in there, with a face that possesses a charming button nose, she's frightened by what she's done.

She remembers standing in front of her father's body. She was ten -- still a child. Her aunt told her, "All things must die." She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to tear the room apart. She hated death so much. However, she didn't complain, and she barely uttered a word. She was a good girl.

Instead, she buried herself in her books so deep that she often didn't see the light of day. She swore to preserve life at any cost. She never would have guessed that all that effort and sacrifice would lead her here.

But what's done is done. She can't kill him now.


	2. Where in the hell am I?

"Patience, Jack. I'll be with you soon," Ianto says as he wipes himself clean. "But the phone sex was good, yeah?" He looks around for the rubbish bin. This is why he hates hotels. Nothing is where he needs it.

"No, it was fine," Jack says on the other end. "It's just a poor substitute for the real thing. I miss the way you smell, the way you taste."

"It's only been a day since our last shag."

"You're the one who spoils me."

"Well, I am done fixing the server, but I still would like to do one last system analysis before I go. I reckon I'll be done by noon tomorrow."

"And then back at the hub -- you, me and anal beads."

"If the rift behaves."

"Christ, why did I let you stay in London?"

"Because if there's an emergency, we don't want to be up a creek without a paddle," Ianto says.

"What could possibly happen?"

"Don't jinx things," Ianto warns.

"Don't be so superstitious," Jack replies.

"Says the man who has his tarot cards read."

"Twice. I did it two times, and both times she was right."

Ianto laughs and rolls his eyes. "With results like that, how can I doubt her?" he says with a yawn. "I'm off to bed."

"Sweet dreams."

"You, too." The words "I love you" almost leave Ianto's mouth, but he swallows them instead. Ever since the incident with the telephones, he's been wanting to say those words. He just hasn't gotten the courage yet. Instead, he says, "Good night."

"Good night," Jack replies before hanging up.

Ianto switches off his phone and plugs it into the charger. He brushes his teeth and goes over his checklist for the next day. He takes one last look at the city lights before closing the drapes. After setting the alarm, he settles into bed and pats the empty space where he wishes Jack could be.

Finally, he drifts into sleep and dreams -- or least he thinks it's a dream. Jack is sitting on the bed. There is some sort of alien device on the table. The older man doesn't say a word, but he has a mournful expression on his face.

"Jack? What are you doing here?"

He runs his thumb across Ianto's lips, which the younger man takes in his mouth. It's sweet like honey. Then, Ianto's eyes grow heavy, and…

~~o0o~~

The light is so, so bright. Ianto shuts his eyes as soon as he's opened them. He hears a beeping sound; but it is muffled, and it echoes. His limbs feel heavy and numb. His throat is parched.

He opens his eyes again, slowly, trying to make adjustments for the light. He wants to use his hand to shade his face, but his arm feels stiff and weak. His eyes burn and begin to water, but Ianto needs to know where he is. He blinks several times in an attempt to sharpen his vision.

He has just enough strength to swivel his head and take in his surroundings, but the wall are white, making the light seem blinding. He's able to gather that he's in a hospital bed in a private room. There's an IV in his hand. Machines keep track of his vital statistics. There are no windows except for the tiny slit in the door. Yet, the sheets are comfortable and soft. They must be a high thread count.

There's a camera hung high up in the corner of the room. The red light is on. He's being watched.

"Hel…lo?" he says, but his voice is raspy and barely above a whisper.

A gray-haired woman wearing a tailored dress enters the room. She reminds Ianto of Angela Landsbury -- or, more accurately, the character she played in _The Manchurian Candidate_. She's accompanied by a woman in a lab coat.

"Hello, Mr. Jones," she says. Her voice echoes. "Welcome back. Dr. Ortega, inform Captain Harkness that Jones is awake."

Ianto promptly falls asleep again.

~~o0o~~

His eyes open again. He wants to jump in fright, but his limbs won't cooperate. All they can do is twitch.

"Hey," Jack murmurs. Okay, Jack is there. One reason less to panic.

Ianto hears no echoes this time. Everything is in focus. He guesses that he isn't dreaming, but circumstances as they are, it's hard for him to tell.

The same woman who looks somewhat like Angela Landsbury is at the foot of the bed. She pours a clear beverage into a cup with a straw and hands it to Jack. The same woman in the lab coat is by her side.

"Drink. You need it," Jack tells Ianto. "It's water."

Ianto takes a sip. It feels good as it travels down his throat so he begins to suck greedily. Unfortunately, he coughs some of it up when he finds it too hard to swallow. A slightly panicked Jack dabs his chin with a handkerchief.

"Now, I have a few questions for you, Mr. Jones," the woman says in a sharp American accent. "What is your name?" the woman asks.

Ianto looks up at Jack in confusion.

"Come, come," she says like a severe headmistress. "Cooperation is vital. What is your name?"

Jack tells him, "They are testing your vocal chords and your memory. Just answer her questions."

"Ianto…" He pauses to clear his scratchy throat. "Pardon me. Ianto Jones."

"Place of birth?"

"Cardiff, Wales." His voice is still distressingly raspy. Jack offers him another sip of water, which he gladly accepts, slowly this time.

"Who was your last employer?"

"Torchwood."

"And what was your position on the staff?"

"General support."

"What is six plus four?"

Ianto frowns and glances back at Jack, who is crying. "Ten," he replies.

"Eighteen minus seven?"

"Is eleven," Ianto says with a yawn. Even in all this excitement, he still feels drowsy, but not drowsy enough to be impolite. "Pardon me again."

"Nine times four?"

"Thirty-six," he says. His voice becomes clearer and stronger.

She touches a stylus to a screen on a PDA and pulls up a pattern for testing color blindness and says, "Can you see the symbols?"

"You haven't ask me a division problem, yet," Ianto replies.

"Duly noted," the woman says dryly. "Now the symbols, Mr. Jones?"

"A16," he reads. The woman runs several images in slideshow, which she expects his to read. "Y23... Q48... K79."

She puts away her PDA and asks the doctor, "Was that to your satisfaction?"

The doctor doesn't speak, nor does she seem to pick up on the sarcasm in the woman's voice. She merely nods.

"Now, Mr. Jones, do you have any questions for us?" the gray-haired woman asks.

"Yes."

"Go ahead," the woman says.

In slow and over-enunciated speech, he asks, "Where in the hell am I?"

"You're on a planet called Ba'ak in a city called Palenque," Jack tells him.

"And this is the Caput-sihil Corporation," the woman says. "I'm Mona Cavendish, CEO, and this is Dr. Ortega. She will be your primary doctor and will decide the course of your treatments."

Ortega smiles in a way that looks forced and rehearsed; however, she looks slightly frightened by both men in the room.

"The last thing I remember was being in London… in the hotel," Ianto says, trying to hold onto some rationality in his panic. "We were there for Martha's wedding, but I stayed behind to check on the servers…" He looks up at Jack. "I spoke to you. How did I get here?"

"Let me explain," Jack says.

"I can barely move," Ianto exclaims. "Why can't I move?"

"You were just brought out of a coma, Mr. Jones. You shouldn't expect to leap out of bed and perform back flips," Mona says. "But I think we should rule out nerve damage. Isn't that right, doctor?"

"Mhmm," she squeaks. Ortega appears to have something else to say, but she bites her lip instead.

Mona continues, "Dr. Ortega will need to do the proper testing to determine the correct therapy."

"Why do I need therapy in the first place?"

"You died," Ortega replies with a jerk of her shoulder that perhaps is meant to be a shrug.

Ianto closes his eyes, and his head twitches as he tries to shake it. For a moment, everything seemed to go white before returning into focus. His breathing becomes labored and his heart begins to beat faster. "I what?"

Jack shoots the doctor a recriminating look. She ignores Jack and injects something into the IV.

Jack turns back to Ianto and says, "Yes, you did die, but this lovely woman brought you back."

"In a manner of speaking," Mona adds.

"In a manner of what?"

She sighs impatiently and says, "You did die, but using your DNA, stem cells and some tissue samples, Dr. Ortega and her team were able to reconstruct your body."

"Reconstruct my body? What does that mean?"

"You're a clone," Jack replies.

"We don't use that term around here," Ortega says. "We prefer the terms 'replicant'."

"But I remember details of my life," Ianto stammers. "Gwen and Rhys. Tosh. Owen. I have a sister…"

"We were able to access your memory and upload it into your brain," Mona tells him. "But it is a delicate process. Don't be surprised if you don't remember everything."

Ianto doesn't know if it's all of this new information or if it's just a case of the medication kicking in, but he feels dizzy. He whispers, "I feel like I'm me."

"You are you," Jack assures him.

"But where am I? I mean, where is the real me?"

Ortega chimes in, "You are the real you."

"The old real me?"

"In our cryogenics chamber," Mona replies as if the matter is neither here nor there. "But Captain Harkness is correct. You are you. Without your thoughts and your memories, you are nothing more than a sack of meat."

"What year is it?" Ianto asks before his mind in lost in a thick fog.

"On the Earth calendar?" Mona says.

"Yes."

"It's 3245," she replies.

"Oh?… Really?…Oh, okay," Ianto mutters before everything goes black.

~~o0o~~

He wakes up again, still in the room. He can't help but to feel a sense of impending doom. But that may be because the muscles in his limbs feel like they're being twisted and torn apart, and he's yelling like a madman from the sheer agony of it all.

After his pain is reduced from a ten to a seven on the scale, he's placed in a wheelchair and the medical team wheels him around from exam room to exam room, where they put him through a barrage of medical procedures that test most of his major organs. Everywhere he's sent, they scan the back of his neck with something that resembles a price gun from a shop. He's told that there is a chip embedded under his skin that transmits his vital statistics to the monitors and stores his medical history. The doctors take notes. They take blood samples. They take away little bits of Ianto's dignity by treating him like a lab animal. They pinch his cheeks, not because they think he's cute, but to test his skin's elasticity. They nod at each other saying things such as, "Right on schedule." Some doctors, he doesn't understand at all.

In spite being scared shitless, he does take some comfort that everything is orderly and efficient and that no one seems to want him dead… again.

_It's karma_, he decides, _for every innocent alien and person who suffered the insane Torchwood rigmarole. It has to be fucking karma._

In the middle of a pulmonary function test, the main lights go out while the auxiliary ones come on. The doors seal shut, and an alarm buzzes loudly. Yet, the staff remains calm.

"_Jodido_," the doctor says as he pulls mouthpiece out of Ianto's mouth, peeved that his test has been interrupted. "What do you suppose it is this time?" he asks the technician.

"The floor forty-nine team is developing a vaccine. Maybe one of the rats got out," she replies with a weary sigh.

"Couldn't have gotten too far," the doctor says. "Not with the implant."

The technician takes out her PDA and hums a tune as she waits for a report. She reads: "Security breach. Single suspect, male. Unknown substance on this floor."

"Hey! What if that's my lunch?" the doctor jokes.

"Very funny," the technician groans. She taps her foot as she waits for further information. "Suspect apprehended. They are being stingy with the info."

"You know, you have to give the poor bastard credit for getting this far," the doctor comments. "What do you suppose he wanted?"

The technician glances at Ianto. "Don't know. Probably got off on the wrong floor. But I know one thing for sure. Heads will roll for this."

"If anyone asks, I was here with you kids," the doctor says. "But I bet it's just a drill."

The doctor and technician sit back and chat in a language that is a hybrid of English and something else as they wait for the all clear. Ianto looks at the reinforced metal door. It's perfectly molded to the frame so that nothing can get in and nothing can get out. He's safe, he supposes, but his heart won't stop pounding.

While being shut in this room, it occurs to him that he hasn't even seen natural light since arriving at this place so he really has no concept of day or night. Of course, he had days like that in the hub, especially in the last months of his former life. Gwen would always insist that he needed to go outside and see the rest of the world, but everything that he thought he needed was there in the Torchwood base. He had his archives, his coffee machine, his closet full of suits, Myfanwy, and Jack. As long as he had those things, he didn't want for more, and he felt secure.

He looks around now. The two are still chattering away as if he isn't really there. Jack is who knows where. He feels so utterly defenseless, and the pain intensifies again.

The lights come back on. The door unlocks itself, and the doctor stuffs the mouthpiece between Ianto's lips and tells him to blow, even though the young man feels like he's suffocating.

~~o0o~~

Hours later, when the doctors, nurses and technicians have done their work, they take him back into the room where Jack is waiting for him. Both men sigh in relief.

Jack kisses him, gently at first. It's sweet and tender -- everything a first kiss should be. Ianto's heart flutters. However, Jack deepens the kiss so that it becomes a tangle of lips, teeth and tongue. Ianto has to stop to catch his breath.

"Don't get carried away, Captain," a nurse jokes. "He's had a busy day."

Jack smiles at her before kissing Ianto's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his hand.

As soon as Ianto is settled in his the bed, the staff leaves the two men alone.

"Hey, you," Jack says.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ianto replies.

"They wouldn't let me see you. I was upstairs giving Mona Cavendish hell for all of this and…" Jack takes a deep breath. Ianto smiles at Jack only because the older man looks about as scared as he is.

"So are you okay?" Jack asks.

"I'll live… I think."

"That's good."

"There was a small bit of excitement. Sort of terrifying, actually, but security is tight around here."

"Yes, it is."

"This is weird."

"Yeah."

Ianto glances at the covered dish on the rolling hospital table. "And I'm starving."

"So let's try eating." Jack pulls the table closer to the bed and dips a spoon into some sort of creamy substance

"It looks like baby food -- like mashed carrots," Ianto says.

"Yes it does."

"What is that?" Ianto asks.

"It's a nutrient-rich food paste." Jack replies. He sniffs it and frowns. "So I'm told."

"Is it safe?"

"They wouldn't give it to you if it wasn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Jack cups Ianto's cheek and looks the younger man in the eye. "Trust me."

Ianto wants to so desperately. Jack's hand is warmly reassuring on his cheek. "The food… it's not people, is it?"

Jack chuckles and replies, "No."

"You try it first."

Jack takes the first bite and promptly gags. "Still, it's gotta be better than being fed through a tube."

Ianto takes a bite and forces himself to swallow even though he'd rather spit it out. It's both bitter and meat-flavored with a slimy texture.

"Not much better," Ianto says.

While Jack feeds Ianto, they try to carry on a conversation.

"This is 3245?" Ianto asks. "It's been over a thousand years."

"I told you I wouldn't forget you."

"Did you?"

"Well, I said that you'd never be just a blip in time," Jack replies.

"Oh. So now I'm two blips in time."

"You could look it that way, or you can think about how much I missed you," Jack says as he feeds Ianto another bite. He even catches a dribble of food from Ianto's lips with the spoon. The younger man can feel all the muscles in the back of his neck clench up.

"So you cloned me?" Ianto asks.

"We had so little time together."

"Are there more clones?"

"No. Just bits and pieces -- a lung here, a heart there…" Jack says as if the whole business was no big deal.

"Ah… and who are these people who create bits and pieces of humans?"

"The Caput-sihil Corporation have helped humans adapt to life on different planets for generations. They've also made great leaps and bounds in the field of medicine. And yes, they can clone a human heart. That way patients who need a transplant won't have to wait for someone else to die."

"But there aren't more whole, entire people walking and talking or laying about in hospital beds, yeah?"

"Just you."

"What did you do? How much did it cost?"

"You are priceless."

"I believe whoever is in charge would beg to differ."

"That would be Mona Cavendish, and what she wanted was a tissue sample," Jack tells him.

"For what reason?"

"To study it."

"Do they know about your condition?"

"Yes," Jack says. He leans over and whispers in Ianto's ear, "But I doubt they'll learn very much from a tiny flap of skin."

"Sounds like I was a bargain."

"You are a medical achievement."

"I don't feel like one."

Jack puts down the spoon to hold Ianto's hand. "I know things are going to be frustrating for a few weeks, but the doctors here will be able to look after you. They'll be able to tell if…"

"If I'll survive?"

"If you'll gain normal function. Viruses and bacteria have a thousand years of evolution on you, so they'll have to quarantine until you've had all your immunizations."

Ianto groans a bit, but, seeing Jack's worried expression, he rolls his eyes and jokes, "Can't be much of a quarantine when they let you in here."

"Well, I don't mean to brag --"

"You must be joking. You love to brag."

"I have an excellent immune system," Jack says. "It's one of the perks of time-travel."

"Time travel -- there's a lovely notion. Wish I could skip over all of this."

"That's not how it works. Even if you were to skip over the next hundred years, in your time-line, you'd still be bed-ridden."

"You had to rain on my fantasy, didn't you?" Ianto says.

"I'll have you know that I still have to go through a health scanner and a sterilization shower each time I get on this floor."

"Ah, far be it for me to complain that I'm a cripple, when you have to go through the torment of scrubbing your naughty bits extra clean."

"It's not that fun. I have to go though the shower fully clothed."

"Bless your sad, little heart," Ianto mutters. Yet, he's comforted by the fact that Jack has maintained basically the same style. While the cut on the trousers is a little tighter and the sheen on the fabric is slightly different, he still wears the braces and the boots, and the white tee still peeks out from under a blue shirt.

"You're gonna be all right," Jack tells him. "I promise you."

Still trying to wrap his head around things, Ianto asks. "So these people… if they have the technology, couldn't they have made me stronger?"

"Nananananana," Jack says as he puts another spoonful in Ianto's mouth in slow motion.

Ianto swallows his food, then says, "Oh, God. Please tell me that I'm 100% organic."

* * *

**A/N: **Some translations --

**Palenque: **Fortification

**Caput-sihil: **reborn


	3. One foot in front of the other

The next day, Ianto is wheeled from his cell into a room filled with exercise equipment where Mona Cavendish and Dr. Ortega are waiting.

"Mr. Jones, this is Bayil, your physiotherapist," Mona says.

A tall man with goldenrod skin and leopard spots shakes Ianto's hand. He's seen people like Bayil, working in the labs in various capacities. Jack has told him that they are natives to the planet, a race of people called the Chikmo'ol. Bayil is the first of their kind to shake Ianto's hand. Actually, he's the first person at Caput-sihil to do so.

"All right, Mr. Jones," the physiotherapist says. "Let's see what I have to work with."

Mona and Ortega watch with academic interest while the nurse cannot keep her eyes off Jack's ass. At least Gwen had the courtesy to do so when she thought Ianto wasn't looking. Jack stands in front of the walker, offering encouragement.

Ianto is able to stand. He takes a few, tentative steps before his legs give out. Bayil catches him and places him back in the chair.

"Try again, Mr. Jones," Mona says.

Bayil glances at the CEO before kneeling in front of Ianto. "There's one thing that I always tell my guys when they're starting out: It's you who has to decide to put one foot in front of the other. No one else can do that for you. Awright, man?"

Ianto nods and, with a great deal of effort, pulls himself to his feet. He takes a few more steps. Ms. Cavendish congratulates Dr. Ortega as if the whole ordeal is supposed to be a grand achievement, and Jack does his best to look proud. Bayil helps Ianto onto the mat and begins stretching his muscles gently. The doctor sits in her chair, hugging her knee. It's hard to suss what she's thinking.

Despite Ianto's efforts to put on a brave face, in reality, all of his work amounts to is a few terrifying and painful minutes before a giant letdown. Later, his attempt at writing his own name is a disappointment as well; he can barely hold onto a pen, let alone make an "I" with it. Either his mind is rejecting this 33rd century custom-built body, or his body is rejecting his 21st century mind. Whatever it is, his attempts at reconciling the two leaves him feeling slightly useless.

Ortega tells him he will undergo laser nerve therapy. She describes it as a relatively simple process in which she will destroy the damaged nerve cells and inject a new batch of stem cells in their place. Then, a laser accelerates the growth of the new, healthy nerve cells. The whole process creates no more pain than he already feels, and when it's done, he immediately feels an improvement. Ortega tells him it will feel even better once the swelling on his skin's surface goes down.

Yet, it's a game of inches. She can fix one section at a time, and the damage is in various locations that she has yet to identify. So he's told.

It's true that his body is a wreck, but Ianto consoles himself with the fact that his memory is quite sharp. The doctors scan his brain while asking him a series of questions about his medical history. They also ask him general questions about science, math and 20th century history, specifically World War II (must have been Jack's idea). He passes this test with flying colors.

However, Ianto seems to have forgotten something very important.

While he is waiting in an exam room with Jack, Ianto asks, "How did I die?"

Jack tilts his head back so that it leans against the wall. "An airborne alien virus."

"Was it quick?"

"Yeah. A matter of minutes."

"That quick? Must have been one hell of a virus," Ianto says. "Was it a good death?"

"There's no such thing as a good death."

"Well, I just hope there wasn't any vile foaming at the mouth… or gagging. I would hate to have left a grotesque-looking corpse."

"You went quietly," Jack says without looking at Ianto.

"Were you there?"

"Yeah."

"Did you die with me?"

"Yeah."

Ianto winces at the sight of Jack's pained expression. A nerve in his calf flares and goes out again, leaving behind a dull ache. "Shit. I'm sorry, Jack."

"You were in my arms," the older man whispers.

Ianto can't decide if he should take comfort in that statement when dying doesn't seem real to him if he doesn't remember it. Yet, the memory is there on Jack's face. For Jack, it seems that it's something that he can't forget, something that haunts him even as they sit side by side waiting for another procedure.

Just when Ianto didn't think their relationship couldn't get more fucked up, they've reached a whole new level.

For lack of anything better to say and with the hope that Jack might take comfort in his words, Ianto tells him, "I'm glad I wasn't alone when it happened… not glad that you died, too, but…"

Jack tries to smile, but it still looks somewhat like a grimace.

Dr. Ortega walks into the room, bringing both men back into the present with a jolt. She lays out seven vials on a table. As she prepares the first syringe, she asks, "Mr. Jones, are you ready for your first series of inoculations?" Without waiting for an answer, she says, "Good."

~~o0o~~

Following a review of Ianto's vital statistics, Ortega is confident that her patient is no longer in danger of a total, spontaneous system failure. Ianto is shocked that such a thing was even a possibility, although when he thinks about it, he knows that he shouldn't be surprised at all.

Mona Cavendish herself visits Ianto, once he's back in his bed, to tell him, "I'd say by the rate of your progress, we'll be able to move you into a more comfortable room in a pair of days."

"Just when I was beginning to appreciate the prison chic charm of this room," Ianto replies.

Mona's eyebrow shoots up.

"But thank you for your care and concern," Ianto tells her.

The corner of her lip lifts into something that resembles a smile. "You're welcome."

When she's left the room, Jack says, "Is that how you treat the woman who gave you life?"

"I did thank her, but considering how that life has been going so far, yes," Ianto says.

"Bear in mind that she's used to running a business, not a hospital."

"Well, I do feel a bit like a product. I'm like a doll that goes back into a toy chest once the doctors are finished playing with me."

"You certainly are as cute as a button," Jack says, kissing the end of Ianto's nose.

"You're lucky I can't hit you for saying that."

"I'm lucky that you're alive."

"Thank you."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No," Ianto says. "I wonder what Gwen would say if she saw me lying here."

"She'd probably yell at the doctors demanding more humane treatment," Jack says wistfully. Then, he adds in a darker tone, "Mona would love that."

"So I suspect I should keep my head down."

"That would help."

"Is that why you chose me? Out of all the people you could have replicated, did you choose me because I'm cautious?"

"That's part of it."

"And the other part?"

"You trust me," Jack replies. However, something in the man's tone makes that trust seem like a character flaw and not an asset.

The muscle in Ianto's arm spasms, causing the limb to shoot out uncontrollably. He tries to take another pill. However, his arm won't cooperate, and he ends up dropping it on the floor. He stares up at the ceiling, feeling so incredibly stupid. Jack picks it up and hands it back to him.

With his eyes closed and his thoughts drifting back his happy place back in Cardiff, the young man asks, "What ever happened to Gwen?"

There's a hitch in Jack's breathing. He gathers himself and replies, "She, er… she took over Torchwood when I was mourning. She found good people to look after the rift and really came into her own as a leader. She held it together better than I could."

"To be fair, she was practically in charge when I was there… alive… back then."

Ianto reaches up to feel the chip on the back of his neck to remind himself when and where he is.

"It's strange to think of her in the past tense," Ianto says.

"I know."

"She and Rhys? Were they happy?"

"Yes. He was really there for her after you died. She was very lucky to have him."

"She had you as well to lean on as well, I'm certain."

"I couldn't do a damned thing for her," Jack says. "I just stayed out of her way."

"But you stood by her, didn't you?" Ianto asks.

Jack opens his mouth, but doesn't speak. However, he has a look of guilt about him.

"Jack?" As soon as the word leaves his mouth, a sharp pain sears through Ianto's arm, causing the young man to curl himself into a ball and yell through gritted teeth. This happens sometimes in spite of the drugs.

Ortega sprints into the room and gives him another dose of his pain meds that makes his head feel like it's a helium balloon floating above his body.

"You shouldn't excite him," Ortega says to Jack.

"We were talking about an old friend," Jack replies.

"His blood pressure became dangerously high. You shouldn't excite him."

"Oh, so this is my fault?" Jack asks.

She turns her back on him and shudders. She hugs herself tightly and replies, her voice quivering, "In my focus on his internal organs and in my efforts to keep him alive, mistakes may have been made in the creation of his limbs. I am working to correct those mistakes, but pain can also be psychosomatic. You shouldn't excite him."

Jack backs away from her, watching her carefully as if she's ready to snap.

With one hand griping onto the railing of the hospital bed, she faces the monitors while taking several deep breaths to steady herself. She repeats the numbers out loud in a monotone litany.

Ianto notices the security badge that hangs around her neck. In her photograph, she smiles sweetly and looks away from the camera as if the photographer has caught a candid image of her thinking about a pleasant secret, and under said picture, it reads in bold, black letters: Dr. X. Ortega.

~~o0o~~

Jack is restricted from visiting again. It hardly matters because Ianto is asleep for hours, like a newborn.

But when he is awake, in moments of clarity, he finds it difficult not to think about Lisa. How could he not? He thinks about her lying in that contraption, floating in and out of consciousness from the drugs, and reeling in pain when she was alert. He thinks about how for months that single room in the Torchwood basement was her entire world, and all she could do was wait. _This is what it must have felt like,_ he says to himself. _How did she survive without going completely mad? Oh. Stupid question. _

He reminds himself that she was waiting for the opportunity to take over the world, and she only needed him to facilitate the process. He didn't see it that way then.

No, back then, he was so desperate to keep her alive even though her existence was very, very wrong. He couldn't let her go, he loved her so much, and now Jack and this place and this situation…

Of course, after Lisa was gone, Ianto had moved on quickly and with the man who killed her. _Christ, is this karma? Maybe I'm in purgatory?_

Ianto's mind wanders also to the stories Jack told him about the Valiant and the year he was tortured and sentenced to die over and over. He considers the idea that there is no such thing as karma because Jack had done nothing to receive such pain. No one deserves that sort of pain.

He feels the heat of the laser against his skin as the treatment corrects the nerve in his arm, he tells himself that he's lucky. He tells himself to fight.

"Don't squirm," Ortega says as she looks up from her computer screen. "It's important to remain still."

~~o0o~~

As Mona promised, a nurse called Cameron wheels Ianto into a comfortable, if impersonal room. The furniture is functional, though not very pleasing to the eye. Ianto looks into the bathroom, which is immaculate, yet in a clinical pale green. At least, he has a spectacular view. Ianto also realizes that he is in the tallest building in the entire city, which invigorates him with a feeling of grandness.

"That's just gorgeous," Jack says.

"Oh, yeah. Nice to see the sun out," Cameron comments. She aims to be sweet, but something in the tone of her voice is off. When she looks at Ianto, she seems more than a little frightened by him, or the idea of him. Why shouldn't she be? He's Frankenstein's bloody monster.

"And over there is rain forest," Jack says, pointing beyond the world of concrete and stone in varying shades and tints of sepia and towards a cluster of green at the edge of the city. "Well, that and coffee farms."

Ianto grips Jack's hand. They look at each other and laugh. "Coffee?" Ianto asks in sheer disbelief. "Over by the mountains?"

"Well, you can't grow the beans without the altitude and the shade, yeah?" Cameron says.

Ianto kisses Jack's hand and tells him, "I died, and you brought me to heaven."

The moment of joy and awe comes to an abrupt end when Cameron closes the drapes with a quick jerk of a cord. She points to the hospital gown and robe Ianto is wearing, "I suppose you'll want to change into something else."

"That would be nice."

She opens the drawers and fishes out a pair of underpants, a t-shirt and a pair of socks. Next, she pulls a track suit and trainers out of the closet. With a no-nonsense demeanor, she has Jack help Ianto keep his balance while she pulls up the briefs and the trousers.

Even though the process is awkward, Ianto enjoys being in Jack's arms. He presses his nose into Jack's neck and inhales. The disinfectant doesn't quite overwhelm Jack's natural scent, which makes Ianto very happy. That scent… it's home. He sighs when Jack's grip becomes tighter.

Jack gently places Ianto back on the bed and stares at the young man's chest. Both men have to pause and catch their breath. The scars are gone, but of course they are. They belonged to another body in another life. However, they were more than just battle wounds. Those scars represented small moments of camaraderie between Ianto and Owen. They kept the medic's memory alive.

Trying to lighten up the mood, Jack says, "Normally when I'm in a room with a beautiful woman and a handsome man, the clothes come off."

Ianto suddenly realizes that he has no sex drive whatsoever. Then again, he assumes that he cannot be expected to perform in his condition.

"You're a bad one, Captain Harkness," Cameron teases. "But it's good to see you smile."

"What are you talking about? I smile all the time," Jack insists.

She places her hand on Jack's arm. "Not a real one like that."

Once Ianto is dressed, Jack kneels in front of him and says, "This is much better."

"Not quite the suits that I'm used to," he replies. The clothes are comfortable and made of quality fabric. However, he feels like a bit of a slob.

"I miss the suits, too, but I'd rather have the man who was in them," Jack replies.

"All right, boys. Enough of that," Cameron says. She pulls the wheelchair next to the bed. "Work to do."

~~o0o~~

Physical therapy becomes the top priority over the next three weeks, and Ianto continues to improve faster than expected. Even so, Ianto never thought he could be so happy to walk to the bathroom on his own or to be able to write his name. But those little victories help him press on when he has trouble keeping his balance or touch typing on a keyboard.

And Jack is there to cheer him on or to hold him when he the pain tears him apart. The older man fills Ianto's head with stories about strange places and impossible people. He aims to keep the tone light and playful, but there is always an undertone of sadness underneath those stories.

Ianto tries to listen, but sometimes, he's so out of it from the pain, the drugs and the exhaustion, he's not paying attention at all. Sometimes, the cadence of Jack's voice and the strength of his arms is enough. Sometimes, all Ianto needs is Jack's presence to feel better.

In those rare moments when he's clear-headed and the pain is tolerable, Ianto tries to talk about the past.

On one evening, he asks, "What was my funeral like?"

Jack freezes in place while giving Ianto a back massage. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity."

"Rather morbid, don't you think?"

"It's not like I'm dead anymore, and don't stop. There's still a knot in my shoulders," Ianto says. "Was it well-attended?"

"I don't know," Jack replies. He squirts more oil on Ianto's back and resumes the massage.

"Didn't you go?"

"Couldn't."

"Did you at least meet my sister?"

"I did."

"I never got to tell her about you and me."

"You did. She seemed to know who I was before I opened my mouth."

A sense of anxiety creeps about in Ianto's brain. He tries to hold it at bay, but he stammers a bit when he asks, "How did she take the news that you and I were…"

"A couple? Because that's what we were. That's what we are," Jack says. He tries to be sweet, but he sounds a little too desperate. "You being with a man was the least of her concerns."

"Because I was dead, right? It's always easier to be understanding of the dead."

"She loved you and didn't judge, full stop," Jack insists.

"I didn't visit her as often as I should have. I never got to know my niece and nephew. I never really gave Johnnie a chance."

"She understood how busy you were when Gwen and I explained the circumstances," Jack tells him. "And you provided for them in your will."

"You remember her, then?"

"Every time I looked at her, I saw your face," Jack says. "If you'll excuse me. I need to wash up"

And Ianto knows that it's the end of that conversation. Jack will wash his hands and, when he gets out of the bathroom, he will teach Ianto something new about the 33rd century. It will be useful and will help the young man adapt, and, being where he is, it's hard for Ianto to argue against pragmatism.

In a way, those lessons remind Ianto of being back in the hub and cataloguing new tech. On that level, it's reassuring, but, when he doesn't hear Myfanwy's caws or Gwen's lame jokes, those lessons also amplify Ianto's homesickness in the end.

But at the same time, he considers Bayil's words. Only Jack can decide to put one foot in front of the other. Ianto decides not to push Jack into a conversation he's not ready to have.


	4. Isolation

Ianto misses pizza. He misses steak. He misses Chinese food, cheese pasties, chocolate hob nobs and chips.

Actually, the local cuisine that the nurses serve him isn't bad at all. It's just that every time he pulls back the cover to his dish, he never really knows what he's getting. He was served fish one day, and it was slightly lavender in color and accompanied by a tangy blue sauce that tasted orange-ish. The side dish consisted of vegetables that looked familiar, but had flavors that were different than he remembered. Only the rice was like regular rice, but it was brown. He prefers white.

In his rational mind, he knows that he shouldn't complain. The fish was cooked to perfection, and the meal as a whole was vastly healthier than what he normally stuffed in his face back in Cardiff. However, what he wouldn't give for a piece of cod, dipped in batter and deep-fried.

Yet, one of the few things that hadn't changed, even after a millennium, is coffee. It's true that he's read about and even seen some odd variations on the cappuccino or a Turkish coffee, and he's seen it dressed up like a cheap whore in a variety of ridiculous flavors. That's to be expected. After all, in his century, he's witnessed the horrors of adding raspberry syrup to a perfectly respectable cup (or worse still, flavored coffee beans). But the people of Palenque, for the most part, serve it black, no sugar -- the way nature had intended. Why mess with perfection?

Eventually, Ianto is allowed to have a cup of coffee from one of the local farms as a reward after an uncomfortable nerve conduction test. It's full bodied and smooth with a sweet and slightly nutty flavor, which reminds him of sitting on the hub couch with Gwen and Tosh and taking magazine quizzes and laughing at the results while Owen made lewd remarks from his station.

Right there in the employee lounge on the 52nd floor of the Caput-sihil Corporation building, he begins to cry before he's halfway through with the cup.

Not knowing what to do, Jack says, "Let me take that from you."

"Don't you dare," Ianto replies.

Jack sits at the table with both elbows on the table and his chin resting on his knuckles. He watches Ianto nervously.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," Ianto says to the older man.

"Don't. This can't be easy for you."

A middle-aged woman dressed in some sort of military uniform walks up to the table. She clears her throat and says, "Captain Harkness? It's almost time."

"Time for?" Ianto asks

"Mona has asked me to lead a few training exercises for her security team," Jack explains. "And well, the money's good."

Ianto attempts to smile and says, "That's brilliant. Go ahead." There's a prickling sensation in his throat.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't expect you to sit around a knit me a sweater, and I'll be fine," he says. Yet, his heart beats just a little faster, and the aches are a bit more noticeable at the thought of being alone. He also feels a little too warm.

"And Mr. Jones," the soldier says, "Ms. Cavendish sends her regards."

"Tell her thank you," Ianto replies.

Jack stands up and follows the soldier to the door, but before leaving, he returns to Ianto. He lifts the young man's chin for a kiss.

Ianto pulls away and says, "Good-bye, dear. Have a good day at work. Now, we really are a couple."

"Is that a problem?"

"It's just new."

Jack musses the young man's hair before he leaves with the soldier.

Rather than sit alone in the lounge, Ianto goes back to his room and opens up the laptop Jack gave him.

Although it was initially intimidating, the computer is easy to use, or perhaps it just seems that way after dealing the hub's system -- not that he's doing anything incredibly complicated with it. When he thinks about it, a six-year-old would be more proficient with this thing.

Most of the time he reads the local newspaper to learn about Palenque and its culture, although he must keep a dictionary and encyclopedia app running in order to understand the articles. A lot of articles deal with an upcoming election in which both politicians make promises about a better future for the people or news from the war in a frontier colony. Buried under all of that news -- even under the entertainment section -- are the stories about people protesting against genetic discrimination and for the right to genetic privacy.

While he takes great interest in those subjects, on this day, he types Gwen's name into an ancestry search, but he stops himself before going any further. He's done this several times before, but always stops himself. If he went any further, it would be like deciding he'll never see her again. He couldn't look at her knowing all the spoilers.

On a whim, he types his name instead; however, all of his information has been blocked -- like he's some sort of dirty secret. He tries a few of his best hacker tricks, but, alas, his skills are sorely out of date.

Outside, it's raining. The windows in his room are sealed so tight that if there's thunder, he can't hear it.

Ianto holds the cup of coffee between his hands and sips.

~~o0o~~

The next time Ianto sees Jack that day, both men are weary. Ianto's had another series of inoculations, one of which has resulted in flu-like symptoms -- Chi'ich flu 853, to give it name. Predictably, Ortega has told him that everything is perfectly normal and as it should be, never mind the coughing and the runny nose.

While there's nothing physically wrong with him, Jack stares out the window in a pensive trance.

Ianto grabs a handful of tissues and hobbles next to him. Aside from the pain that has now become normal, his body feels a little stiff from whatever he's contracted.

"You should use your cane," Jack comments.

"It's not that bad," he says. "I believe I've developed a high threshold for pain in the past couple of weeks."

"No, I think you've always had that."

Jack tries to take Ianto's hand, but the young man pulls it away saying, "Don't. I'm sticky and disgusting."

"Okay, I won't," Jack replies as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Ianto notices that he isn't watching over the city; Jack's gaze is directed at the mountains.

"Tell me about your day," Ianto says.

Jack doesn't answer. He crosses his arms, and his eyes turn to the skies, which are filled with turbulent clouds. After a minute or so of silence, Ianto shakes his head and sits on the bed. He blows his nose and tosses the used tissue into the bin.

"They're so young," Jack says.

At first, Ianto isn't really sure if Jack had indeed said something, but he asks anyway, "Who?"

"The soldiers I worked with today. And they're cocky. Christ, are they cocky. They think that with the sort of kit that the medics have around here, they are safe as houses, but they can't always get to the medics in time. They don't see the soldiers who do survive but are left with their injuries and their pain. It's true that Ortega is developing better ways to treat those things --"

"As a product of her handiwork I can attest to that," Ianto interjects.

"You are walking again," Jack mutters.

"Didn't mean for it sound like a complaint," Ianto says, rubbing his thigh.

"As I was saying, there are a lot of treatments that have done away with a lot of suffering, but that's not an excuse for them to be so reckless."

"What exactly are the biggest threats?"

"People looking for drugs mainly," Jack replies. "Most of the time, the warehouses are hit by desperate people who are in over their heads, but no matter how stiff the penalty, they keep coming back. Every know and then, they get hit by people -- human or alien -- who know what they are doing and can do a lot of damage."

"And soldiers get killed."

"Yeah." Jack takes a deep breath and rests his forehead on the glass. "It's not just the warehouses, it's the fleet as well. A couple of months ago, a starship carrying a shipment of medical supplies to another colony was hijacked. The entire crew was killed, and their bodies were stuffed into an escape pod that was sent to the airfield as a warning."

"Jesus."

"Humanity is spreading across the universe, but you can't expect them to be greeted by the welcome wagon everywhere," Jack replies. "And I have to prepare those precocious young things to face that sort of danger."

"You've done it before in the RAF, Torchwood."

"Yeah, and look where it got you and Suzie, Tosh, Owen."

"We signed up for it. I stalked you for that job as you'll recall," Ianto says.

"If it hadn't been for that damned leather bird…"

"You wouldn't have gotten a piece of this fresh ass… or, more accurately, a piece of the not-so-fresh ass in cold storage. Wow. Technically, I'm a virgin."

"Do you always have to make jokes?"

"I'm coping," Ianto replies. "But in all seriousness, if it hadn't been for Myfanwy, you and I would have never happened. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been able to let go of Lisa and find meaning once again."

"Don't say that…"

"You are an incredible captain, and I would have followed you anywhere."

Jack slowly turns around. He cannot make eye contact with Ianto. He's fragile -- just like when Tosh and Owen died, only somehow worse.

Jack asks, "Have you eaten?"

"I can call the babysitter and ask for soup," Ianto replies.

"I'll get it."

"You know you can talk to me, Jack…" There are moments when Ianto looks into Jack's eyes, and they reveal the older man's true age. This is one of those moments. Ianto adds, "When you're ready."

Jack points towards the door. "The soup."

"No," Ianto says. He coughs a couple of times and blows his nose. "If you don't mind me being disgusting, come sit with me."

"I don't mind," Jack replies.

"Call the nurse, and order me the closest thing to chicken soup they have."

"Okay," Jack whispers.

"And when you're done, let's plan that holiday you keep threatening to take me on. We both need something to look forward to, right?"

Ianto can see a glimmer of excitement in Jack's eyes, and it makes his own pain that much more bearable.


	5. Experimentation

For the first time since he woke up on this planet, Ianto finds himself thinking about sex.

It began when his runny nose cleared, and Ianto realized that Jack no longer had to go through the decontamination showers and, suddenly, those 51st Century pheromones became more noticeable, especially when Jack leaned in for a hug. It helps that Ianto's pain had been significantly reduced after Bayil's physiotherapy and Ortega's treatments. Less pain meant less medication, and less medication meant more sensation in his body. Therefore when he inhaled said pheromones, he could definitely feel something stir in his pants.

Still. Ianto considers the possibility that sex will hurt -- for example, back spasms, leg cramps, twitching at inopportune times. Well, the pain is gone from his back and arms, but his legs hurt like hell even when he's just sitting. Plus, he can't discount pain from underused muscles. What if he remains passive during the whole thing?

Of course, he hasn't had a full erection yet, despite his attempts at masturbating. The thing is his body still feels very weird and alien, and he tends to think himself out of an orgasm. In the end, he's simply too sad to try.

Jack could help with that. Jack seems to want to help with that. However, Jack acts as if he's terrified of breaking the young man.

"Wait until Ortega says it's okay," Jack says during a make-out session, because that's what they've been reduced to -- snogging and groping like a pair of adolescents. Hell, Ianto got more sex when he was sixteen than he does now that he's… How old is he now? One month-old or twenty-six? 1262 years-old?

Ianto snaps himself out of his tangent. "But they had me on a treadmill today, and --"

"Just wait," Jack repeats. "We don't even have any lube or condoms."

"We can do other things."

Jack traces Ianto's jaw line with his thumb. "You know I want you."

"How much? Show me," the young man says, tugging on his would-be lover's belt.

"I just want to be sure that it's okay," Jack says before pulling himself off the bed. He paces around the room aimlessly.

Ianto decides to take matters into his own hands and plays with himself. Maybe that'll get him into Jack's trousers. Ahhhh, Jack's trousers -- the way they cling to his gorgeous ass and show off his stunning package in such a mouth-watering way… God, he looks beautiful when he moves.

Meanwhile, Jack tries not to watch. He stares out the window at the night sky, but every now and then, he takes a few peeks to see what Ianto is up to. Each reveals a different emotion -- lust, guilt, frustration, longing. Eventually, he faces Ianto and moves towards the bed; however, his face is full of pity with just a hint of fear.

Ianto wants to die as he realizes just how useless his dick is. "I can't… It's not getting hard."

"Maybe there's no reason for alarm. When I consider how difficult your first steps were --"

"Fine," Ianto mutters. "You're right. Why shouldn't I expect sex to be any different? My body is a lemon."

"It just needs fine tuning."

"Yes. Absolutely. Right. I'll just have Ortega get her hands all over my cock and balls with her laser nerve therapy kit, and everything will be right as rain."

"But at least the procedure is painless, right?"

"Have you not noticed the redness after the treatments?" Ianto shouts.

Jack leans on the table, gripping the edge with his hands so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He asks, "Do you hate me… for bringing you back like this?"

Ianto considers the best way to answer. However, it's not easy to take the edge out his voice. "Hating you won't make me feel better, and it would be unfair of me. You've come back to me so many times."

"I never had the choice."

"Same here," Ianto mutters.

"I didn't know that it was going to be so hard for you. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Stop it. Just stop it. I'm alive, full stop. Yes, the situation is difficult, but your guilt is no good to me."

Jack grimaces like he's just been slapped.

Ianto takes a deep breath. "I'll admit that I get tired of having to concentrate every time I take a step. I get scared every morning when I wake up because I know that first step is going to be sheer misery. I get frustrated because I can't do all the things I want to do. But… at least I know that this situation is temporary, and this has got to be profoundly better than being dead."

Hearing this seems to humble Jack, who tentatively climbs back on the bed. He reaches out for Ianto's hand but, at the last minute, doesn't take it. Instead, he grabs the remote control and flips through on-screen menu. "That Harry Potter movie you missed is coming on the classic movie channel tonight."

"The Half-Blood Prince?" Ianto asks.

"That's the one."

Ianto cringes and replies, "Never got to see that one, now it's a dinosaur."

They sit in silence. Jack fidgets with the controls restlessly, trying to decide what to do or say next.

Ianto places his head on Jack's shoulder and says, "Put it on."

~~o0o~~

When Ianto describes his problem to Ortega, she stares out into the space. They only thing that indicates that she's listening is that she's nodding her head and chewing on her bottom lip.

"I just want to be sure that the problem isn't anything else, like, say, neurological," Ianto tells her.

"Oh, I'm sure," she says.

"How can you be sure?"

"I made you," Ortega replies in a tone so matter-of-fact that it gives Ianto chills.

"You also made my limbs," Ianto reminds her.

She squirms and grunts before saying, "If it pleases you, I'll take a look."

Ianto follows her into the imaging room where she has him strip from the waist down and lie on a table. He isn't sure if he should be disturbed by the doctor's absolute lack of concern for his comfort or relieved by the idea that she isn't getting some sick thrill from this; however, he's unsettled by the idea that she's probably held his dick in her hands many times. He thinks about her in a lab, attaching it to his hips, arranging his organs inside his torso.

He wonder what her hobbies are.

"Nerves are tricky," she says as she takes the scans. "They are very intricate in structure and chemical composition. It's difficult to repair a nerve once it's been damaged, but it's worth the effort. A lot of people suffer. The work I've done with you will help many. Your pain has value."

Ianto suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Whether she's benevolent or not, even if she's completely confident in her methods, he's still her guinea pig. He watches her face in the glow of the screen. She has that look Tosh used to get when she was working on something complicated -- terribly focused, full of curiosity, yet placid and content.

"I'm done," she says. "You may get dressed."

"And?"

"I was right. Nothing wrong there," she says. "It's the drugs. I could offer you something to counter the side effects."

"Like Viagra?"

"Viag-what?" she asks. She scowls for a few seconds before sending the prescription to the nurse's station. "Now, let's discuss your sexual practices."

~~o0o~~

More than ever, he needs a distraction, something that feels good, something that is normal in this insanity.

As soon as they are alone in his room, Ianto unbuttons Jack's shirt while biting the older man's chin, his lips, his neck.

"Did you get the all clear from Dr. Ortega?" Jack asks, stepping away from Ianto.

"And then some. Now get undressed."

Jack grins, and in a matter of seconds, he's stark naked and helping Ianto out of his track suit. They sit on the bed face to face, both of them restless and giddy.

"What did she give you?" Jack asks.

"Some sort of cream," Ianto replies.

Ianto squirts some on his hand. It's cool on contact, but as it soaks into the skin, it turns warm and tingly. He almost feels like giggling when his cock begins to stir.

Jack pulls himself closer to his lover and wraps his hand around both of their cocks, rubbing them together. "Tell her we're going to need a case of this stuff," Jack mutters.

In his head, Ianto says, _Please let this happen. Oh, God, I just want to feel good again. I want this work. I need this to work. Just let me cum. Let me feel something other than pain._

But the harder he thinks about it and the more pressure he puts on himself, the less likely he is to get his wish. Rationally, he knows this, just like he knows that Ortega has probably given him the weakest thing to curb the side effects of the medication he needs. Ianto has a sinking suspicion that the woman doesn't concern herself too much about his quality of life, but knowing all of this doesn't help his disappointment when he becomes flaccid again.

Jack ignores his own cock and uses his mouth. Unfortunately, the younger man's dick makes a few half-assed attempts at rising before it just gives up and goes limp. And although they won't say it out loud, both men are utterly humiliated.

Ianto allows himself to feel angry for a few seconds, and then lets it go, knowing that sort of negativity will only make things worse. He can see Jack trying to do the same with his guilt. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… exhale.

"It's not you. You are still gorgeous as ever," Ianto says gently. "Thank you for trying."

"We'll take a break, and we'll keep at it," Jack suggests.

"No, I think I've done enough for the evening."

"Maybe if I…"

"No."

That eagerness to please slowly melts away as Jack resigns himself to Ianto's will. "Okay," he says. "We'll just lie here… the two of us." He takes Ianto's hand and kisses the palm, down to the wrist.

"That tickles." However, Ianto loves it.

"I want you to know how proud of you I am."

"Stop it."

"I'm serious. I am in awe of how you've faced this problem and how hard you keep working. When you started your physiotherapy, you could barely lift your arm, but now look at you." There's a genuine affection in Jack's expression.

But still, Ianto replies, "I still can't run."

"You'll get there. You'll get to do all the things that you used to do," Jack says. He raises an eyebrow. "All you need to do is practice…" He brushes his lips against Ianto's, pulling away before the young man can get a proper contact. He does this several times until Ianto grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him in for a lingering kiss.

When they break apart, Jack whispers, "This is a challenge that requires a lot of experimentation."

"You're still hard," Ianto says as he grasps Jack's erection.

"You think you can do something about it?"

"I can try."

Ianto leans over and nuzzles Jack's balls, and on this strange planet, Ianto finally has something familiar and comforting. The way Jack moans as Ianto runs his tongue over the tip of Jack's cock hasn't changed. Jack still bucks his hips when Ianto gently pulls his balls away from his body. As expected, Jack's fingers run through Ianto's hair as the young man sucks vigorously.

"So close," Jack cries. However, Ianto already knows that. He just likes to hear the ecstasy in Jack's voice when he shouts those words. Ianto had almost forgotten how much he loved making Jack cum.

When it's over, Ianto's jaw and neck hurt more than he's used to, and there's a little voice in his head that tells him, he will pay for it tomorrow. However, the euphoric grin on Jack's face makes it all worth it.

~~o0o~~

After another week and a half, Ianto still doesn't quite feel like his old self -- the one who used to run after Weevils in the streets of Cardiff and still had the energy to fuck Jack senseless. However, his confidence is gaining.

Part of it, Ianto contends, has to do with Jack who was right about experimenting. Despite his discomfort, Ianto goes back to Ortega for something different, and Jack brings in a few toys. Every evening, the men rush back into Ianto's room. The sex is still rather limited, and Jack is very careful. However, roll play is always an good way to spice things up.

"Hello, are you Mr. Smith?" Jack asks one night.

"I thought I ordered an escort who had wings," Ianto replies.

"Sorry, baby. Paolo has a case of space herpes, but you can call me Angel if you like," Jack says.

"Money's on the table, Angel."

"I see it."

"You're not going to count it?" Ianto asks.

"I trust you."

"Good. Now, strip," Ianto commands. "And slowly."

Jack pushes his braces down his shoulders and pulls out his shirt from his trousers. "What do you want?"

"Maybe I want you those lips of yours to kiss my cock until it grows big and hard."

"I can do that," Jack replies as he tosses aside his shirt and kicks off his boots.

"Maybe I want your tongue to work it's way up my shaft while your fingernails scrape my chest."

"I can do that." Jack lets his trousers fall to the floor and steps out of them.

"Maybe I want you to stick your finger up my ass while you suck me off."

"I can do that." He takes off his t-shirt and socks.

Ianto moves towards Jack and removes the older man's underwear while whispering, "Maybe I just want you to take that cock of yours and shove it right up my ass like you're going to split me in two."

"Ianto…"

"Maybe what I want is for you to fuck me until I can't think, until I can't see straight, until everything disappears."

"Ianto."

"I know. I just… miss it."

"But don't you want to play with my new toy?" Jack picks up his trousers and takes a box from the pocket.

"What's that?" Ianto asks.

"You'll see," Jack whispers. "Just lie back and let me take care of you."

Initially, Jack's kisses are sweet and reverent, but Ianto takes hold of the older man's neck and pushes his tongue into Jack's mouth. Soon, their movements are clumsy, needy, messy and frantic, but the older man pushes all the right buttons. Jack helps Ianto with the track bottoms and his socks before running his fingers down Ianto's leg and nibbling the inside of his thighs.

"Hello, you," Jack says to the young man's dick.

"Sometimes, you just have to love modern pharmaceuticals," Ianto replies as the blood begins to flow in the right direction.

"And let's not forget technology," Jack says. He opens up the box and dumps the contents on the bed. He places a plastic cap on each of the finger tips on his right hand.

Ianto gasps upon contact. Each cap is a tiny vibrator massaging his hips. Jack's hand moves along the hips to the inside of Ianto's thighs, while his lips and his teeth tease one of Ianto's nipples. Ianto hisses as Jack's fingers move underneath his balls and tease his perineum.

"Don't worry. We will have plenty of time to do everything, but for now, I think I can still make things worthwhile," Jack says, watching the pre-cum flow from the tip of Ianto's cock. He, then, licks it up greedily with a filthy grin on his face.

Jack's fingers inch their way across his balls before they land on base of Ianto's cock, leaving a wave of electric shocks in their wake. Jack doesn't even have to apply much pressure as he moves his hand up and down the erection to make the young man completely his.

Just like that, Ianto's world makes sense. For once in his miserable second life, his mind and body both scream out "yes" in total unison, and he begins to feel complete again. When the pressure gets to be too much, he doesn't merely have an orgasm; he shatters into bits with joy.

Sated and light-headed, Ianto collects his breath and small fragments of his sanity and blurts out, "I love you… I really… fucking… love you." A laugh bursts out of his lips because he knows that this isn't the most ideal way to say it. However, he's finally said it; it's out there; and he will never take it back.

Jack sits rigidly on the bed with a stunned expression on his face. "Ianto, will you look at me?"

The young man keeps laughing. "Oh, fuck, Jack. Just let me enjoy the moment."

"Ianto, will you please just look at me?"

"What?" Ianto asks in annoyance.

Jack has to take a deep breath before he can say, "I love you, too."

The words suck the air out of Ianto's lungs. He sits up slowly and stares at Jack.

"Ianto?"

"You love me." The young man feels the crimson rising to his cheeks. His ears burn.

"I do."

"Oh."

"But you knew that, right?"

Ianto's eyelids flutter as he recovers from his daze. "I never thought I'd hear you say it."

"You deserve to hear it." Jack stares up at the ceiling for a moment before turning his attention back to Ianto. "Those words… they're about how they make the other person feel, right?"

The young man tries to come up with an honest, insightful answer. He wants to tell Jack that he's never needed to hear it and that he's felt it on some level. Yet, the words that tumble out of his mouth are: "I've got cum on my belly."

There's an awkward silence. Ianto grabs a flannel and begins to clean himself. Jack places the vibrators back in the box.

"Are you okay?" Jack asks. "I mean, I hope you're not in any pain."

"Um, no. I'm good," Ianto replies.

"Oxytocin," they say in unison.

"I could give you a massage," Jack offers.

"That would be nice."

Jack stands up and takes a few steps towards the bathroom. "I'll find the oil."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?" the older man asks as he turns around.

"We should kiss, shouldn't we? Isn't that what lovers do?"

Jack laughs in relief. He crawls on the bed, pinning Ianto on the mattress. They kiss with their eyes open, smiling as they press their mouths together until Jack rolls over. Ianto puts his head on Jack's chest, and they lie together until the young man falls asleep.

Their nap is interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Motherfuking tossers," Ianto mutters. He begins grabbing blindly for clothes.

"Let me deal with this," Jack says as he pulls on his underwear. When Jack answers the door, Ianto expects him to flirt with the officer a bit and make a lewd invitation. However, the Captain's tone isn't playful at all. It's icy. "You wanted something, soldier?"

"Lights out," the security guard replies. While he's dressed in military fatigues and wearing some sort of gun in a holster, he looks a couple of years shy of voting age.

"You're early," Jack says.

"I have word that tomorrow is a big day for Mr. Jones. Dr. Ortega wants him rested. I'll give you five minutes to say goodbye."

"I'm not leaving."

"But Captain Harkness," the soldier stammers. "Ms. Cavendish's orders are --"

"I will deal with her in the morning. If you want me to leave, you're gonna have to drag me out."

The guard glances at Ianto and then back at Jack. He pauses for a moment to work out his options in his head. Eventually, he salutes. "Yes, sir."

"Now, go and find me a toothbrush. When you have it, leave it at the door and knock. Then, go on your way and finish your patrol," Jack says.

"Yes, sir," the guard says as he salutes again.

Jack closes the door. "Now, do you think you can put up with me for the night?"

Ianto pats the bed and murmurs, "Get in."

~~o0o~~

Since being reborn, Ianto's never missed a full night's sleep. He'd even suspected the doctors of drugging his food (and quite frankly he wouldn't put it past them) but, after years of being an insomniac, it was incredible to sleep soundly and wake up feeling refreshed.

Now, Jack's shouts wake him in the middle of the night. Ianto can't understand everything the older man is saying since his words are slurred. However, Ianto is able to pick out "don't," "sorry," "please," and "Alice."

_The name of a lover?_

Jack wakes up with a gasp. He sits up and places his head in his hands.

"Hey. Can I get you a glass of water?" Ianto asks.

"I'm fine," he says in between heaving breaths. He's lying, and there's that fragile look again.

Ianto gently pulls Jack back down on the bed and nestles behind the older man. "I'm here," he whispers. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Jack trembles in Ianto's arms. "Yeah."

"I'm here."

"Yeah."

~~o0o~~

It's morning, and Ianto is groggy and tired. His muscles are stiff. Yet, Jack is in his bed and is thankfully serene.

Ianto pops the first pill of the morning (no water required) and tries not to grunt as he crawls out of bed. Fighting every instinct to curse when his legs feel as though they are on fire, he staggers to the window and opens up the drapes just a crack to look out onto the city below where he imagines the only people on the streets are the early risers or those who have yet to go home.

He spots a bald man across the street in his rooftop garden, tending to his plants just like he does every day. Ianto would wave if he thought the gardener could see him. He wishes he had binoculars if only to see what the man is growing, although chances are he wouldn't know the name of the plants.

When he lived on Earth, he did everything possible to avoid normal human interaction with other people, but without his work and after being shut up in this tower, normal human interaction is all he can think about. With regret, he thinks about how he hid himself from those he kept close. So it goes.

He wonders why there aren't flying cars whizzing by his window. This is the future, damn it. He was promised flying cars. Well, science fiction movies promised him flying cars. He does see a spaceship fly across the sky just before it leaves the atmosphere, and that is very cool.

"Not that I don't mind looking at your ass," Jack says. "But I'd rather have my hands all over it."

Ianto rolls his eyes before closing the drapes, but he returns to the bed.

Jack looks at Ianto's arm and frowns at the bruises. "I'm so very sorry," he says.

"Bruises heal. How are you?"

Jack grins and pecks Ianto's lips. "Good."

"Are you sure?"

"It was just a bad dream," Jack replies.

"You don't dream. You remember."

"Is this how we're gonna spend our first morning together? Because I was hoping for something a bit more romantic."

"It's hardly our first morning together."

"It's the first morning of our new lives."

"You were always a bit sentimental."

"Still am," Jack replies.

Ianto kisses Jack rather than say something argumentative that would only spoil the moment. Yet, there are so many things that Ianto would like to say as well as so many questions he wants to ask now that he has the energy to deal with such things. On the other hand, perhaps Ianto's making excuses to keep his mouth shut. He is, after all, finally getting the affection and the commitment he's always wanted.


	6. The World Outside

A/N: Sorry that this took so long for me to post this. There's no excuse. I just kept tinkering and tinkering with this chapter.

* * *

After allowing Jack to stay in his room the previous night, Ianto knows a reprimand is coming so he isn't surprised when one of Mona's lackeys interrupts his session with Bayil. The physiotherapist gives him a quick wave before saying, "Good luck. I'll miss that ass of yours once she finishes chewing it out."

Ianto follows the secretary into Mona's office, and when he enters it's just like he imagined -- high ceiling with huge windows so that she can gaze upon her dominion. And her desk is ridiculously large. He muses that he and Jack could both lie down on it easily for a great shag. (How he misses Jack's office in the hub.) He wonders why Mona would need a work area that size. Everything is electronic, and no paper means no pens, no staplers, no binder clips. (Ianto misses binder clips, too. Damn Jack and his office fetish.)

There's a small LCD panel on her desk set up like a picture frame. When Ianto touches the screen, he sees pictures of a group of small houses -- no more than simple huts -- clustered in the middle of grassland. Scientists, some of them caked in dirt, pose happily in front of their lab equipment; their faces are full of promise. That was centuries ago when they had no idea of the kind of city they were actually building.

Over the course of the slideshow, these houses become a village and then a proper town with paved roads. That town, after decades of hard work, becomes city of Palenque courtesy of the people of the Caput-sihil Corporation. Mona is in one of these picture, but Ianto almost doesn't see her since she's standing in the back of a group photo in which a politician, who is shaking the hand of a highly decorated Chikmo'ol woman, takes the main focus.

There are also several photographs of the same man walking among the coffee trees or working in a greenhouse. Someone like Jack would call him a silver fox. In one of the photographs, he holds the hand of a little red-haired girl.

Mona's heels click on the floor as she walks towards her office. Ianto quickly shuts off the screen and sets it back down, hopefully in the same position. He rolls back his shoulders and stretches up his spine to get into character.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Jones," Mona says as she marches into the room.

"No, I understand that you are a very busy woman," he replies.

She pulls out her desk chair, but she doesn't sit right away. She looks at Ianto with a gleam in her eye. "I had forgotten that it was once customary for men to stand when a woman walked into a room."

"That is true, but I remain standing out of respect for your position of authority."

"Very diplomatic, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you."

Both parties sit down.

"You're wondering why you're here, no doubt," she says, hands in front of her, fingers interlaced, chin up.

"I suppose you want to speak to me about Jack's visit last night."

"Oh?"

"I understand we broke the rules, but I don't regret doing so. I also think that given the opportunity, I'd do it again."

"Actually, I am quite proud of you," Mona says. "We have tried to provide you everything that you needed, but it seems that we have overlooked something. You and Captain Harkness fulfilled that need on your own. Kudos. And from Bayil's physiotherapy reports, I can see the benefits of your sessions with Captain Harkness. Who am I to begrudge you a bit of positive reinforcement?"

"Thinking about adding Jack to the staff as my prostitute, then?" he asks with the utmost civility.

A corner of her lip curls up in amusement. "The Captain is already on my payroll, but I suppose I could add a bonus to his next paycheck. However, the honor of explaining it to him is all yours."

"I think he'd find the matter amusing. He likes recognition for a good night's work."

"Oh, I do hope you'll enjoy it here in Palenque, Mr. Jones," she says.

"I haven't had a real impression of it in order to decide whether or not to stay."

"Well, if you are in my office, then you must have realized that you've had all of your inoculations and your quarantine has been lifted. I've scheduled a excursion in the city for you and Captain Harkness -- supervised, of course."

"I wouldn't expect anything different," he replies. "What I don't understand is why you've extended this privilege to me. Is there something I can do for you?"

"As a matter of fact…" she says. "I'd like the speak to you about the Captain. I'd like him to come work for me, permanently. Yes, he's agreed to perform silly, little drills with toy guns, but he's capable of so much more. The desire is there, but it needs coaxing for a reason I can't begin to fathom. I believe you are the man who can bring it out of him"

"You want me to convince him to work for you?"

"If you decide you can build a life here, yes. And let's not forget that I can make life very easy for you, Mr. Jones. You are obviously very bright and a quick study, and your determination receives my sincerest commendation. Yes, I think that you'll make an excellent addition to my staff after a spot of training, of course."

"You'd be willing to hire me, just like that?"

"I believe in rewarding those who come to my aid."

"I hope you understand that I cannot make any promises."

"Fair enough," she replies with a wave of her hand. "Just enjoy the day. Soak up the culture, and when you get back, think about the offer I've made you. I doubt that anyone else can offer you better."

Considering his thousand-year gap in consciousness, he probably isn't very employable. "I doubt that, as well," he replies.

"I'm sure that you and the Captain will have plenty to talk about before you decide what's right for you."

"So all I have to do is talk?"

"That's all you have to do. I've think you've done enough for Dr. Ortega already."

"By that you mean assisting her with her research."

She actually chuckles. "Yes." Gesturing at the door with a grand sweep of her arm, she says. "Good day, Mr. Jones."

"Good day, Ms. Cavendish." Ianto replies.

"Mr. Jones?" the receptionist calls out. She holds up a suit and a pair of shoes. "Ms. Cavendish picked this out for you."

Pinstripes. At least the woman has taste in clothes.

"Thank you." He takes the clothes and heads for the door.

"And this," the receptionist says, stepping in front of Ianto and offering him a small box. "It's a translator -- just put in in your ear. There's a lot of different languages and dialects out there."

~~o0o~~

Downstairs in the lobby, they cannot take their eyes off of each other -- Ianto in a three piece suit and Jack in his greatcoat.

"You look…" Jack says. He circles around the other man to get a better look at him.

Ianto strokes the fabric of the coat fondly. When he first laid eyes on it, it was love at first sight, and now, he wants to rub the lapel against his cheek. He wants to ravish his Captain madly. He wants to go out and save the world. The cane in his hand reminds him that this isn't a possibility yet.

Jack pulls Ianto into his arms, and after all of their boundary-pushing activities, it seems strange that public displays of affection seem to throw Ianto for a loop. However, they still do. Ianto keeps his eyes open while kissing Jack in the main lobby of the Caput-sahil Corporation. Some stop and observe the two men with bemused expressions, but most of the others go about their business. No one seems to be bothered in the very least. Times have changed.

Dr. Ortega clears his throat and motions towards a revolving door. Ianto pulls away from his boyfriend, and he spins his way out into the New World.

Once outside, Ianto squints to adjust his eyes to the sun. It's a pleasantly warm day, if somewhat humid and cloudy, and the streets are still wet with rain, making the cobblestones shimmer. Ianto half expects to see a rainbow in the clouds.

There's only one flaw in this picturesque scene. A young Chikmo'ol man stands on the sidewalk and shouts through a megaphone, "The only true expression of ourselves is in the deeds we do and not in our DNA!"

A small group standing near the man chants, "Man is more than genes alone! Man is more than genes alone!"

A car pulls up to the front of the building. Dr. Ortega scans Ianto's neck as the young man gets into the backseat.

Ianto presses his face on the window. He doesn't care if he looks like an idiot tourist; he is going to soak up the sights of the city he's been dying to see since he caught his first glimpse from his room in the steel tower. The buildings themselves are nicely designed; however, there is something very cookie cutter about them. It seems that only the displays in the windows vary as does the flora growing all over the city. The streets are lined with strange trees -- some with blossoms that look as delicate as tissue paper, others bearing fruits that look like gems on their branches, some with orange leaves, others with purple ones. Some buildings are covered in ivy. Almost all of them have flower boxes in their windows. Ianto has to wonder if everything that is man made is designed to accommodate the biological diversity of this place, if everything here is one giant celebration of life.

They drive on, forgoing the upscale shops and head for the open-air market where Ianto will receive the maximum exposure to people of different classes.

"And their germs," Dr. Ortega says with a nod. She takes a another scan of Ianto's neck.

"Are you planning on doing that all day?" Ianto asks.

"Yes," she replies as if would be absurd not to.

"Come on," Jack says, pulling Ianto's hand and leading him into the crowd.

As they wander through the aisles, one of the things that Ianto notices -- other than the variety of species -- is how many disabled and sick people there are in the crowd. They aren't everywhere and at every turn, but the percentage seems higher than in any city he's lived in or visited, except for Lourdes.

He gazes at the Caput-sihil tower, shining mightily at the epicenter of the city. Strange how he didn't see any churches on the drive to the market. Perhaps a few exist, quietly tucked away, lost in Mona Cavendish's conceit.

He grips Jack's hand, feeling guilty that he got a second chance when some of these people are struggling to survive, but then, he sees a pregnant man buying produce from one of the stalls. Another life created by the doctors at Caput-sihil, he reckons.

Suddenly, Ianto feels someone bump into his leg. He winces and grits his teeth, but when he looks down, he can't be angry. A little girl with green skin and hair like ivy stares up at him. Her smile is missing two front teeth.

Her mother runs down the aisle towards the men and snatches the little girl in her arms.

"You really should keep a better eye on her in this place," Jack says angrily, making a concerted effort not to look at the little girl.

The mother notices Ianto's cane and says, "I'm completely sorry. I let go of her for one second to pay, and when I turned around, she was gone."

"Children will do that," the young man replies. "And I'm fine."

"You smell different," the child tells Ianto.

"Raz-tha, that's not very nice," her mother says.

"I didn't say he stinks. He just smells different is all."

"It's okay," Ianto tells the child's mother.

"Say you're sorry, Raz-tha."

"Sorry I bumped into you leg," the little girl says. She cocks her head and tells Jack. "I like your coat."

"Thank you," Jack replies. He reaches out and grips Ianto's arm.

Ianto waves goodbye to mother and daughter. The girl giggles as she clutches her mother's neck. For a moment, Jack appears melancholy, and it's also as if he's somewhere else.

"Anything wrong?" Ianto asks.

Jack shakes his head. He tries to smile, but, failing that, he takes a deep breath and looks around. "Where is Dr. Ortega?"

Realizing that they've lost her and their driver, they snicker. Whatever was eating Jack is pushed aside.

"We should probably look for her," Jack says.

"Yes. We should," Ianto deapans.

Jack tries to pull Ianto along, but the young man doesn't budge. Instead, Ianto nods to a taxi and says, "Let's go."

The small flicker of excitement says that the old Jack is still in there somewhere, but he touches the back of Ianto's neck and says, "They'll find us."

"Can't you shut it off?"

"Not without hurting you. The only person who can deactivate it is Ortega."

"And she won't until she's done with me," Ianto says. Then, he remembers Mona. "Give me your mobile."

"Who are you calling?" Jack asks.

"I'm asking for permission," Ianto replies.

~~o0o~~

They end up in a rowdy bar in what is known around the city as the low-tech district, which was built by the sort of people who are nostalgic for a time they cannot begin to comprehend. They are also the sort of people who have started a backlash of sorts against Caput-sihil. Curiously enough, the crowd seems to know Jack. One person asks if he's going to join in their card game. He politely declines.

A redhead in her early forties stops Jack and kisses him squarely on the mouth. "Haven't seen you around lately. Where the devil have you been?"

He quickly answers, "Kika, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Ianto."

She pauses as the information sinks in, but eventually, she sighs and shakes her head, knowing that whatever she had with Jack was over. "He told me you were handsome," Kika says to the young man. "Aw, shit, he was right. _Flaco_!" she shouts at the bartender. "Give this boy a drink on me."

"Thank you kindly," Ianto replies.

"I will see you around, right?" she asks the older man. "Even if we aren't…" She clicks her tongue.

"Maybe I'll see you at one of your rallies," Jack says.

"I thought you weren't political," she teases.

"You're right. Maybe I'll just buy you a coffee."

"That might be nice," she says. She glances at Ianto once more. "Good luck, Captain."

The bartender sets down a red and orange beverage in front of Ianto; however, Jack takes it and drinks about half. "You need to be careful about your alcohol intake."

"Yes, of course," Ianto says. He glances at Kika. Something about her looks oddly familiar. "She's lovely."

"Yeah, she is," Jack admits. "But she doesn't know about my… condition. I think if I told her she wouldn't get it."

"Get what?"

Jack shrugs. "Everything that comes along with it."

"I'm not sure I get it."

"You do," Jack replies, pressing his forehead into Ianto's temple, "better that most."

A shrill female voice pierces through the noisy crowd. "Oh my goodness, look who's here!"

The owner of that voice is a voluptuous middle-aged woman with leopard spots, but no other native characteristics. She drags a human male of roughly the same age behind her. Both of them seem very happy to see Jack.

The man whistles and waves, drawing two more humans and an alien with light blue skin out of the crowd. They all hug Jack. Fortunately, none of them take their affection further than that, although the young human male seems smitten with the Captain.

"I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Ianto" Jack tells the group. "Ianto, this is Zoila, her husband Roman, Yax, Idris and Dominguez."

Being introduced as Jack's boyfriend is strange enough. It's odd to realize that's all he is to Jack -- no longer a colleague or an employee, just a boyfriend. However, the shocked reactions from the group make an uncomfortable situation almost unbearable, but Ianto sticks his hand out anyway.

Dominguez, the blue alien, speaks first. "I thought you said he was…"

"I was wrong," Jack replies. "He was just missing."

The human woman called Yax takes Ianto's hand and says, "We've heard some very nice things about you."

Zoila gives Ianto a fierce hug. "I am so happy you're here!"

"Please, woman. The man is injured," her husband says, pointing at the cane.

"He won't be for long. He's in the right place for that sort of thing," she replies. "Well, come here, and tell us how you found Jack."

"Um… It's well, um… long story, quite complicated… and difficult to explain," Ianto says.

"Oh, right," Zoila says. "Trauma. Not a very good topic for a first conversation."

Dominguez raises an eyebrow and says, "Then, tell us all about James."

"James?" Ianto asks.

"His name is Jack," Yax reminds him. "We met your man when he was incognito."

"Oh," Ianto says as he walks with Jack's friends to a large booth.

In overlapping voices, the group tells Ianto about how Jack, aka James Harper, appeared out of the blue one day looking for work at the coffee farm of all places, how Mona Cavendish picked him out of obscurity, how the CEO courted Jack until he relented and began to work for her.

"So this is why you were in such a rush to leave us," Zoila says with a sly wink.

"You could have told us," the young human named Idris says. It's the first time he's spoken, and he's almost hostile, which is a shame. The boy's face reminds Ianto of home.

Yax puts his arm around the love-struck boy and tells him, "You know Jack. He loves surprises."

Idris gets up and storms away from the table.

"If you'll excuse me," Jack says as he follows him.

"No need to be jealous," Dominguez says. "He and Jack were never together."

"I suppose it shouldn't bother me if they were," Ianto replies. "After all, Jack thought I was dead."

"You were always in Jack's thoughts," Zoila says. "He was quite broken-hearted when we met him."

Yax adds, "We all told Idris it was never going to happen. Jack didn't want any sort of commitments."

"Not after you," Roman says, which is strange to Ianto's ear. Since when were he and Jack committed to each other?

"To be honest, Jack doesn't strike me as the commitment type," Dominguez says as he shakes a bit of salt on his hand, which Yax immediately slaps.

Ignoring the alien, Roman tells Ianto, "I used to worry about Jack. He once told me that he had regrets about you. It's good that he has a second chance."

"So are the two of you planning on making it official?" Zoila asks.

"Here they go again, wanting to pair up the entire universe," Dominguez says in half teasing, half serious tone. "If you ask me, marriage is on the way out."

"Oh, they've been saying that for centuries now, but there still is a line for licenses at city hall every day," Zoila points out.

"Hey, even I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm looking for Miss Right," Yax says. They all look at her in astonishment.

"Seriously?" Dominguez asks.

"Marriage has evolved since its inception," the young woman replies. "It's not about ownership -- or even about monogamy -- like it was in the old days. It's a deal. I look out for you, if you look out for me. You know, like the buddy system with sex."

"That's romantic," Ianto deadpans.

Yax smiles at him, yet, it's neither sarcastic and condescending. It's as if she finds him endearing. "If you find someone you can stand for the long haul, I think it's sweet and nice. I want to be half of one of those old couples you see at the markets… one day… eventually."

"What do you think Ianto?" Zoila asks. "Do you think you and Jack will get married?"

"Aww… look at his face!" Dominguez teases.

Ianto's ears are burning, which can only mean that he's turned the most unsightly shade of crimson, and they are all staring at him, waiting for an answer. He doesn't even know what's going to happen once he finishes his treatment, and it scares him to death. "I… um… I don't know… We've never talked about it."

"Do you love him?" Roman asks, like a concerned parent. Although the middle-aged man is trying to be intimidating, it makes Ianto happy to know that Jack had someone looking out for him when he was dead.

"I do," Ianto replies.

Roman pats Ianto on the back and tells him, "That's a start."

"Awww," Yax coos.

After taking a big swig from his drink, Dominguez confesses, "Just so you know, I fucked Jack. Several times, but only when I couldn't find anyone else… or when there wasn't anything good on the tube."

Yax pushes the alien's shoulder; he shoves her right back.

An awkward silence later, and Zoila says, "Roman and I… it was our anniversary, and it was only that one time."

Ianto looks at Yax who immediately laughs and shakes her head. "Are you kidding me? No. Just… no."

"Oh, come on. He is hot," Dominguez says.

"I like the guy. Really, I do, but he's too, too much," the young woman replies.

Ianto stares into his drink and says quietly, "Yeah."

"He can be so cheesy," Yax adds, cringing in an overly dramatic way.

Ianto catches her eye, and they both begin to laugh.

Over at the bar, Jack tries to console Idris, but the boy brushes him off and chats up another man. Immediately, Yax walks over to Idris to prevent him from making a stupid decision.

Jack returns to the table and asks, "So what have you been talking about?"

"Yaxie's been going on and on about your virtues," Dominguez says.

For a moment, Jack is flummoxed and a little scared. The rest of them snicker into their drinks.

They're a good bunch. Lively. Joyful. Affectionate. Of course, they all seem so well-adjusted that it's hard to think how Jack would fit in. Yet, Jack does have the singular talent of being the life of the party while still remaining aloof. He tells them stories about the old days, catching aliens in Cardiff (although he changes the names and places to provide Ianto and himself with a cover story). He dances with each of them when the questions get a bit too personal. They don't seem to mind. For Jack's sake, Idris eventually joins the table again and apologizes to Ianto for his rude behavior.

Despite his bum leg, Ianto finds himself dancing very badly to a slow song with a slightly drunk Dominguez. Out of the blue, the alien kisses him on the mouth, and, after a half-assed effort to push him away, Ianto allows it to happen. He even allows Dominguez's long, slippery, pointed tongue to explore his mouth. Strangely enough, Ianto likes it. However, he takes a look at Jack's face. The older man tries to appear amused by the scene, but he charges through the crowd to get Domiguez's clammy hands off of his man.

"All right. That's enough," Jack says to the drunken alien.

"Just wanted to see what the fuss was about," Dominguez slurs as he walks away.

"Me, too," Ianto says, stepping into Jack's arms.

"And?"

"I did like the thing with his tongue that he does," Ianto replies.

"Oh, that thing? Yeah. It's okay, I guess."

Ianto whispers, "But I've had better."

Jack chuckles and presses his lips into his boyfriend's neck.

~~o0o~~

After saying good night to Jack's friends, they walk out of the bar and into the street. It's cooler, but not by much. And it's still quite humid. Ianto's jacket is a wrinkled, wilted mess.

The music from the bar still swims in Ianto's head, and the young man leans on Jack as they walk happily down the sidewalk. He even twirls his cane a bit.

"It's not a bad place, is it?" Jack says. "To start over, I mean."

"No, it's not," Ianto says. "I suppose Mona has already spoken to you about the job offer."

"As a matter of fact she has."

"I'm supposed to talk you into it."

"I see."

"You don't really want to work for her, do you?"

"I was thinking," Jack replies, "about a little house by the mountains. We'll grow coffee in the garden."

Ianto snickers. "It's a bit strange thinking of you on a coffee farm, considering that the only productive thing we ever did in the hothouse was shag," he points out.

"Oh, yeah," Jack says with a grin. "So we get a flat in the city."

"We are a pair of urban types," Ianto replies. "What about your flat?"

"My flat?"

"You're not living on the street like some sort of vagrant, are you?"

"My flat is small, and the view is terrible."

"So was my first flat in Cardiff."

"You'd hate it," Jack insists.

"Now, I am curious. Take me there."

"I need to get you back to Caput-sihil," Jack replies. He steps out to the curb to hail a taxi.

Ianto takes Jack by the lapels of his coat and walks him back against a wall. "Just a peek," he says. He drags his lips across Jack's chin. "Did you jerk yourself off in that flat, thinking of me?"

"Ianto, you're not playing fair."

Ianto flicks his tongue on Jack's neck while grinding their hips together. "Did you?"

"You know I did."

"Take me there. I want the visual."

"It's not pretty."

"But you are positively gorgeous when you cum."

They hear yelling coming from another building down the block, followed the sound of breaking glass. Suddenly, a smoke entity floats out the building and zips down the street.

"What was that?" Ianto asks.

"I don't know," Jack replies. He immediately checks his wrist strap, and there's an ecstatic glimmer in his eye, which quickly turns to concern.

"What does your vortex manipulator say?"

"Well, it's alien to this planet for one thing, but this planet gets a lot of medical tourists."

"You're not close enough to get a true reading," Ianto says. "Let's follow it."

Jack holds onto Ianto's arm, preventing the young man from going any farther. He looks down at the cane and says, "You saw how fast it was."

"But you can track it, can't you? We'll get a cab."

"You're not the police. You're not Torchwood anymore. It's not your problem," Jack says firmly.

The small boost of adrenaline wears off, and Ianto's muscles give into the now familiar aches. It'll be time for his medication soon. "For a minute there, it was just like…"

"Things have changed, Ianto."

"But it's not permanent… I'm getting better…"

"You really wanted to chase that thing," Jack says. He's almost frightened.

"Didn't you?"

"Doesn't matter. I have you to protect. I don't want you to get hurt. I should get you back before anything else happens --"

"Where they'll keep me in a hermetically sealed cell."

"You'll be safe."

"What's going to happen when the nerve damage has been sorted?" Ianto asks.

Jack runs his thumb across Ianto's cheek. The haunted look returns to the older man's face.

"What's wrong?" Ianto asks. "And please, don't say that nothing's the matter or change the subject. I don't want to have to insist, but I don't want to see you like this either."

"We were having such a good time… I don't want to ruin the rest of the night for you."

"Doesn't matter. If there's something I can do, even if it's just listening."

"You've had so little joy since you got here," Jack says.

"How can I be happy when you seem so sad and broken? Through thick and thin, I'll stand with you no matter what."

"Will you?"

Ianto leans forward, close enough to touch his nose to Jack's. "Always."

Jack makes one last plea, "Aren't you tired? You must be exhausted."

"I am tired. I'm tired of feeling as though I have no control over my life."

"I'll get us a cab," Jack says quietly. "Then, my place."


	7. Telling the Tale

With his hands in his pockets, Ianto looks around the studio Jack calls home. Spartan. Grey, concrete walls. A bed, a nightstand and a chest of drawers. A card table and a couple of chairs. It's the flat of someone without roots.

"At least it's clean," Ianto says.

"You didn't think I had completely fall apart without you," Jack replies.

"I haven't been in the closet yet. You keep your messes tucked away."

"You know me too well." Jack pauses and gives Ianto a meaningful look. With his arms crossed, he says, "Go ahead."

The words come off Jack's lips like a dare. They almost make Ianto regret coming here. The night had been going so well, but he insisted. Knowledge is power, so they say.

After taking a deep breath, Ianto opens the closet. He finds one of his own suits hanging amongst Jack's clothes, still in pristine condition even after all that time. He looks down and discovers a box with some of his things: his I-pod, a photo-album, his favorite mug. He sits on the floor and takes out a book from the box. It's Tennyson. He flips through the pages and finds the receipt in it. The book was purchased in Cardiff over a thousand years ago. He holds back his tears as he realizes that the book was his own, but is basically still in the same condition as it was the last time he held it.

"I guess we should have had this talk by now," Jack murmurs. "The thing is… I wasn't ready. I'm not sure if I'm ready now."

"That night in the hotel room in London," Ianto says quietly.

"I had to get the memory imprint while you were still alive."

"I didn't know if that was an actual memory or just a dream," Ianto replies. "And I didn't know how to bring it up. Some days I was so tired, it seemed easier not to get into it with you, and you've been so patient with me."

"I kept waiting for you to say something."

"How'd you do it? How'd you go back?"

"John Hart. He took me to a place where I could get the old Vortex Manipulator fixed."

"And what did you have to do to repay him?" Ianto winces as soon as the words come out of his mouth. He didn't mean to sound so petty, but he really doesn't like Hart very much at all. "Sorry."

Jack shakes his head and brushes off Ianto's jealousy.

"So we could go back?" Ianto asks with an eager smile. "Not now, Obviously, I'm still not fit for duty."

Jack crosses his arms and shakes his head. "We'd risk a paradox."

"Please. The Doctor took Martha out to see the universe and travel through history, then took her back home."

"Where her family was waiting for her. You are dead to your family, and I don't know if I have it in me to go back. I wanted to start over here, in safety."

"What about Gwen?"

"She has a staff. She's doing a great job as leader."

"She needs you. She needs both of us."

"I can't go back and have you follow me into your death again," Jack insists. "You've done your part. You've saved the world. You died for it. Torchwood doesn't get to ask for more."

"If I'm going to die anyway, I'd at least like my death to have meaning. I'll finish my physiotherapy, get myself fit again, and go back."

"Ianto, I need you to live. I need you to live for me. I need to give you the life you never had," Jack says. He kneels in front of Ianto and takes his hand, asking, "Please. Please, stay. When you're gone, I'll return to Cardiff. I'll rejoin the team, but don't go."

"Fucking hell, Jack," Ianto says. "What happened?"

"I need to tell you why you died," Jack says. "If I tell you, maybe you'll understand why we can't go back there."

Jack paces around the flat before sitting on the bed. Ianto sits down next to him. They don't touch.

Jack begins with the day the children all stopped. Ianto finds it ludicrous that he lost the SUV and was unable to put a proper trace on it. He winces when Jack tells him about the bomb, but feels proud of himself when he hears about the rescue from the concrete cell. Hiding in a warehouse in London, stealing to survive -- it all sounds unreal, like all of those things happened to someone else. The aliens seem like the most credible part of the story, but as much as he hates to admit it, the sacrifice of twelve children rings true as well. He's absolutely floored when he hears about Alice and Stephen, wondering why Jack's never mentioned them before. He smiles when he hears about Lois; he's glad that she's working for Gwen. He listens carefully when Jack tells him about his death. The older man can't look at him, and even though his voice is steady, he looks as if he could break at any moment.

"I kissed you," Jack says. "And then, I died too."

Ianto collapses into the mattress. He places the heels of his palms over his eyes. "Oh, my God," he says.

"It was one of the worst moments of my life."

"We… we just went in there? Back up. What was the plan?"

Jack doesn't say a word.

Ianto asks, "We didn't just storm in there, unprepared, did we?"

Again, no reply.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Ianto says. "FUCK. I'm a fucking idiot."

"I led you in there."

"And I fucking followed you. Did I stop and think: oh these creatures live in toxic gas and play with viruses, perhaps I should put on a fucking HAZMAT suit? You tell me that I had time to find a hard-hat and a construction jacket when I rescued you, but I couldn't be bothered to pick up a goddamned gas mask before facing the aliens? Did I even stop to ask UNIT that they were doing about all of this? Did I try anything with the frequencies? You said that they communicate over the frequencies."

"Ianto, please. You died because of me, and we can't change that."

"This is not about you. My death is on me. I'm angry at me. You rush in; that's your style. I know that, which is why I plan."

"We were stressed and low on resources…"

"And apparently love makes me stupid," Ianto admits. "What happened, then? What happened to the children? Tell me you stopped the 456. Tell me that Mischa and David lived."

"I stopped the 456. Your niece and nephew survived."

"How?"

"You died, and I had given up… except Alice convinced Johnson I could help. For one moment, it was like she was proud of me…" However, from the words Jack shouted in his nightmare, from the almost indistinguishable quiver in Jack's voice, Ianto can tell that this story does not end well. "We found the right frequency that could hurt the 456, but we needed a child to transmit the signal. The government was already loading up the children; we were running out of time. Stephen was the closest child."

It's the second time in days that Jack's knocked the wind out of him. In an instant, Ianto's anger disappears. He sits up and holds onto Jack's arm.

"I watched him die," Jack says, eerily calm, ghostlike. "He was bleeding and shaking, and his mother watched. I killed him. I pushed the button."

Ianto buries his head in Jack's shoulder. It seems that the old man's run out of tears so the young man has to cry for both of them.

After giving Ianto a bit of time to weep, Jack continues, "When Tosh and Owen died, when I froze Gray, I had you lean on. I had hope because I had you. I came to rely on you. Then, Stephen died, but you weren't there."

"I'm here now."

"Can you still love a man like me?"

"I loved you even after you sacrificed Tommy. Even after you let Jasmine run off with the Mara. Because I know you did it for the greater good, and I know that this is eating you up inside. Yes, I still love you."

"Can you forgive me?"

"What a stupid question," Ianto replies.

Jack shrugs. "Not so much because I can't forgive myself."

"We just need some time to heal together, yeah?"

Jack nods. He appears slightly relieved -- maybe because Ianto didn't call him a monster and rush out of the room, maybe because he's unburdened himself.

Still. The question had to be asked: "Where do we go from here?"


	8. Fresh Starts and New Questions

When Ianto wakes up, the stroll through the market, the dance with Dominguez, the tense conversation with Jack and the night on a lumpy mattress all catch up with him. It's as if there's a beast crawling through his muscle, trying to claw its way out.

He groans and stares up at the ceiling. After a few deep breaths, he wills himself to sit up. He hooks his hands under his thigh and picks up his leg to set his foot on the floor. With a few odd grunts, he repeats the process with the other leg. Taking a few seconds to psych himself up, he stands; dozens of invisible needles jab his leg. Exhaling, he imagines the pain is a white ball that floats away. He's also heard that he's supposed to imagine his power animal when he feels weak. (It may have been in _Fight Club_.) He pictures a penguin telling him to slide. (Yep, he's definitely thinking about _Fight Club_.) Bloody relaxation techniques. They're worth shit. He takes the first step.

The next thing he knows, his face is pressed against the floor tiles. The hinges of the bathroom door squeak as Jack runs out, bare feet slapping on the tiles, but Ianto remains motionless on the floor.

"Just give me a second," Ianto mumbles. He allows the sharp pain in his kneecap to turn into something throbbing, but less intense. His hands no longer burn from where they skidded across the floor. He's okay, relatively speaking. He gestures to Jack and says, "Now."

Jack helps the invalid back on the bed. "What can I do? Tell me what I can do."

"My pills are in my jacket pocket," Ianto tells him.

With a panic-stricken, hopeless expression on his face, Jack fetches them and goes into the kitchen area to get a glass of water. Meanwhile, Ianto swallows his medication dry, but thanks Jack anyway for the effort.

"Sorry, but I don't think there will be shower sex this morning," Ianto deadpans.

~~o0o~~

When they arrive at Caput-sihil, Nurse Cameron meets them at the lobby. She immediately puts Ianto in a wheelchair and takes him to his room where she scans him back into the system.

She glances up from her PDA and says, "You've not been sleeping, have you, Mr. Jones?"

"Where's the doctor?" Ianto asks. He needs medical attention, not her disapproving glare.

"She'll be here soon as she gets a look at your scan," she tells him. After helping Ianto back into his bed and out of his pants, she gestures to the door, hoping that Jack will get the hint. He ignores her. "Don't you have morning drills, Captain?" she asks.

"The cadets can wait," Jack replies.

"I should tell you that Dr. Ortega is not in the best of moods this morning," Cameron warns. And if Jack is still in the room, Ortega'll work herself into a tizzy, and Ianto's pain is a talented empath.

"I'll stay," Jack says.

Ianto sighs. The drugs cannot arrive fast enough.

The door slides open for Ortega. Her red eyes take in Jack and Ianto as she moves to the bed and dismisses Cameron with a quick nod. With absolute grace and precision, she prepares a syringe and has Ianto lay on his side. He feels the cold disinfectant hit his exposed buttock, but the needle prick is barely noticeable.

As his legs become exquisitely numb, Ianto whispers, "Thank you."

Ortega lets out a strangled sob upon hearing the magic words. She recovers for a few seconds only to say, "That was very rude of you to leave me in the market." She begins to cry. "I hate the market. All those people. It's a little overwhelming, okay? If Ms. Cavendish hadn't called, I would have been very worried -- worried sick, in fact."

Jack is about the speak, but Ianto motions to him to back off.

"I'm sorry," the patient says.

"You should be," she hisses.

"I won't do it again."

"Because if you did that again, that wouldn't be merely rude. That would be hateful, and I didn't build you to be hateful."

"No."

She stands with her mouth open as if she didn't expect Ianto to be so contrite. She tugs at the bottom of her medical coat and smoothes it out with her hands. "But it has come to my attention that I have been constricting you with my methods. I have treated you as an object, and I apologize. I hope you understand that there are certain things that I'm just good at… I'm not good at these things at all."

Her hand is clenched into a tight fist, and her fingernails are digging deep into her palm. Ianto worries that she's going to start bleeding at any minute, but she doesn't seem to be reacting to the pain at all. He'd like to take her hand and open it up, gently. And yet, for all of the things that she's done to him, he's frightened of touching her. At this moment, he imagines her crumbling at his touch.

He wonders if her job has made her unable to see a person past his or her viscera. It's possible. The time he spent with corpses made death his constant companion.

So he tells her, "Apology accepted."

"Good," she says with a firm nod.

He reads the tag on her lab coat: Dr. X. Ortega.

"What does the 'X' stand for?"

"Xochitl."

For the first time, she looks him in the eye, and he sees the inkling of the person inside. He hopes that she sees him, too.

~~o0o~~

Ianto sleeps for the rest of the morning. After two restless nights in a row, he's earned it, and when he wakes up from a blissfully dreamless sleep, the pain is reduced to a dull ache, which is about as good as it gets.

Jack isn't in the room. Then, Ianto remembers that he told Jack, "Just go to work. I'm not that interesting when I sleep, and you sitting there and watching me is creepy."

Jack had protested, and Ianto answered, "I fell, Jack. From a standing position. It happened. It was embarrassing, quite frankly. Now, let it go."

And that was that.

But Jack didn't leave him alone. Bayil sits in a chair with his legs propped up on the foot of the bed. He's watching a television show with the sound turned off and subtitles in his native language. Seeing that his patient is awake, he turns off the television.

"Was it worth it?" Bayil asks.

It takes a few seconds for Ianto to realize what the other man is asking. It's a complicated question considering when he puts all the events of the previous day together, but he answers honestly. "Yes."

"Good," the physiotherapist replies.

Ianto pulls himself out of bed -- a task made easier by the reduction of pain -- and goes to the bathroom. When he's finished in there, Bayil has a mat rolled out on the floor.

"Come on. You've had your nap. On your back and let's get to work."

The physiotherapist goes to work at stretching Ianto's muscles this way and that, while Ianto gazes at the ceiling, coming to grips that he really overdid things the day before.

Bayil's phone rings. He pauses to read a message on the screen. "It's your man, asking me if you're awake. He's been sending me notes all day."

Ianto imagines Jack standing on the side of an obstacle course, texting when he should be shouting encouraging words at the cadets. It seems strange that Jack is working for Mona, training fighters, when he's dead set against going back to Cardiff to train fighters.

On the other hand, Ianto considers the offer that Mona made him yesterday. He has to wonder if that's how she operates.

Ianto glances up at Bayil. The physiotherapist is a nice man. Ianto wouldn't consider him a friend, but they've certainly been through a lot with each other, professionally speaking. Maybe it hasn't been as intense as dodging bullets with Gwen or making a cadaver puppet with Tosh or disposing of a giant space whale with Owen, but learning to walk again has been a significant event in Ianto's life.

"So, er… how did you get this job?" The question was meant to sound like he was striking up casual conversation. However, personal questions have never been never easy for Ianto.

The physiotherapist snickers. "What does the old lady want?"

"How do you know she wants anything?"

"For starters, she summoned you to her office in the middle of your session. Then, she gave you two free passes to be with your man, and now you ask me how I got my job. That's Mona Cavendish. Some could argue that she does a lot of good, but, uh, she usually has to have some sort of incentive."

"Did she offer you something if you don't mind my asking?"

"My little boy has some… health issues. There's a lot of sick people who come to this city looking for hope, some with deeper pockets than mine, but if you work for Caput-sihil, you can get to the head of the line."

"That's quite a benefits package."

"A lot of therapists didn't want this job, and Cavendish was getting kind of desperate," Bayil says. He sits back on his heels. "You were the deal-breaker. A kidney here, a lung there -- people embraced the idea. It saves lives, period. You -- you're the entire package, memory and all. That's creepy in all circles."

"I… I didn't ask to be here."

"Yeah, I know that… now. I'm telling you this because I like you, and I don't lie to people I like."

"Thank you for your honesty."

"I don't know what your man's got to offer, but I know it's something big because it scares the old lady. If it didn't, you'd still be in the deep, dark void."

"I can't tell you. It's not my secret to tell."

"I can respect that," Bayil replies with a shrug.

~~o0o~~

The conversation leaves Ianto feeling somewhat unsettled since he seriously doubts that Jack's leadership skills is what really captures Mona's imagination. In all likelihood, the piece of skin that Jack relinquished to the Caput-sihil research team hasn't yielded the secret of Jack's existence, and it probably never will. Mona would need the TARDIS and a much brighter researcher than The Doctor. Fat chance of her getting either.

Yet, how far was Mona was willing to go find the answers?

~~o0o~~

An hour after Bayil leaves, Jack enters the room, and it's not the flowers in the older man's hand that catch Ianto off guard. It's the tight t-shirt and the short athletic shorts along with the whistle around his neck.

Ianto puts his eyes back in their sockets and quips, "'Fraid the doctor says I can't go on the pommel horse today, Coach, but I can come 'round after school and polish your trophy if you want."

Jack's eyes light up. "I didn't realize that you harbored fantasies about physical education teachers."

"I didn't know that about myself until just know." Ianto walks to Jack and kisses him softly, letting his tongue linger in the other man's mouth.

Jack breaks the kiss. "How're your legs?"

Ianto groans, but he answers, "Fine. I slept through the worse of the pain."

"I thought about you all day."

"Did you?"

Jack holds up the flowers, pressing them against Ianto's chest. "I even got you these." They're slightly wilted, and the stems are already crushed in his hands.

Ianto rolls his eyes. "These are from the flower bed outside the building."

"It's the thought that counts."

Jack sits on top of the table with his legs open. Ianto sits in between them and rests his head on Jack's thigh.

"I'm sorry," Jack says as he strokes Ianto's hair.

"For what?"

"We've shared a bed two nights in a row, and in those nights, you haven't slept the whole night through."

"You've given me a lot to think about."

"Like what?"

"I'm still going to die."

There's a hitch in Jack's breath, and his hand pauses, mid-stroke. "I know."

"I suppose they can keep me alive for longer." Ianto sits up, but still keeps his hands on Jack's thighs. "Mona is one-hundred and thirty. Did you know that?"

"They do good work. She doesn't look a day over sixty."

"Or I suppose Ortega can take my DNA samples out of storage and have another go at me, keep me in stasis until it's time. When I meet my maker for the second time, you can thaw out Ianto Jones version three-point-oh. But next time, tell her to look out for nerve damage."

"Or maybe I could shop around for a better clone-maker. Then again, most of the time, clones become soldiers."

"Or lab rats. Hey, lookie here," Ianto says, waving his hand.

Jack takes Ianto's hand and moves it to his hip. He gazes at Ianto with an affectionate smile.

"Or," Ianto says. "We get that house in the mountains, and let nature take its course. I grow old. I'll get crows feet and lose my hair, and that won't be sexy. You'll leave me for a cute blonde."

"I won't leave you for a cute blonde. We'll just have an arrangement."

After some consideration, Ianto says, "But I still get to be number one."

"If you want that spot, you're gonna have to fight for it, preferably in jell-o."

"Fuck you," Ianto says with the corresponding hand gesture.

Jack swats Ianto's hand away. The young man flicks Jack off again with the same result. Ianto tries for a third time, and Jack decides to take the digit in his mouth. Ianto takes it away and wipes it off on Jack's shorts.

"Or maybe…" Ianto continues. He drums his fingers on the older man's hips. "We have a few good years before you get bored, and the whole thing just finds its natural end."

Ianto raises an eyebrow. Jack doesn't answer.

The young man stands up and looks out the window. On the rooftop across the street, the bald gardener is playing with a remote controlled model airplane. "I suppose it's easier that way," Ianto says. "You can leave me knowing that we gave it a shot and file me away in your mind like any other man would do an ex-lover."

"That's not why I brought you back."

"I know. You take death personally so you wanted someone to cheat death like you do. Same thing you did with Owen and the glove."

"Except with food and sex."

"Yes, so I did better than Owen, poor bastard may he rest in peace."

"I almost changed my mind," Jack admits. "But they had your body… and if I had this second chance, I was going to take it."

Ianto nods. He looks at Jack and smiles. "But it is easier to just let love fade rather than have it taken."

"Maybe not as romantic, but less painful," the older man concedes.

Outside, the plane does a loop-de-loop. "I wonder what the model spaceships can do."

"What?" Jack asks. He joins his boyfriend at the window.

"I look at this city, and I think maybe I could live here once I get the hang of the tech and become accustomed to the culture and learn the monetary system and…"

"Okay, I get your point."

"We could travel. The past would be easier to deal with. Then, I think of home. Still not certain about what I want," Ianto says.

Jack reaches up and brushes Ianto's lips with his thumb. "Whatever we have, we'll make the most of it," he promises.

"I suppose we'll have to," Ianto replies.

Together, they watch the gardener bring the airplane in for a landing.

"Are you planning on staying the night?" Ianto asks.

"You sure you want me to?"

"I am prepared." Ianto takes out a pill box from his jacket pocket and rattles it.

Jack frowns. "You're already on all sorts of drugs."

"It's not for me."

An eyebrow flickers. Reluctantly, Jack accepts.

~~o0o~~

While the nightly news anchorperson reports on the day's top stories, Jack cleans his teeth in the bathroom, wearing nothing but his underpants, and Ianto sits on the bed, trimming his fingernails. The scene strikes Ianto as so… domestic… even if they are in a highly secure medical research building, even if the anchorperson has three eyes and two tentacles, even if, just months ago, he was merely a batch of cells in a petri dish. They have decided to build some sort of a life together nonetheless.

The shape of that life is still under debate. They had talked about going into the past and living on Earth, probably in the U.S. Jack had this notion of living in New York City in the 20th Century. Ianto liked the idea in theory. It would be his planet, at least. His language, more or less. In the end, Ianto protested spending the rest of his life hiding his relationship with Jack. It was one thing to do it while working for Torchwood when much of his life was a secret, but he didn't want to hide because of homophobic nutcases.

They considered going back to their own time, but living somewhere else like Canada. Ianto thought that the temptation of contacting his family or Gwen might be too great. Jack suggested future Cardiff in a time not too far from his own, but Ianto remembers what Frieda had told him. The picture she painted seemed very bleak. Water rationing? No, thank you. Then there was the fourth option, but living on any other planet presented pretty much the same challenges as the ones he faced on Ba'ak.

They tabled the discussion in favor of a mutual wank and then some sleep, and as they got ready for bed, Ianto wondered if he was deliberately making things too difficult. For Christ's sake, they had helped people adapt to the past and to the future, and then, there was Jack's situation. Yet, because of his situation, Jack didn't put up much of a fight against Ianto's protests. He understands the disorientation of living in another time and on another planet too well, which makes Ianto feel childish and bratty.

Ianto is about to turn off the television, when he notices the bar from the previous night -- the one with the smashed window. A pretty Chikmo'ol reporter stands on the sidewalk, narrating the events.

"Witnesses say that the gas creature entered through the back entrance, spread out, covering the crowd like a thick fog, before it condensed itself into a tight ball and dived out the window. No one was hurt, but several of the bar's patrons reported that their info cards and gadgets had been wiped clean. Police officers later apprehended the creature on the corner of Ontiveros and Pak'tu using a portable cell like this one, which was purchased with funds donated by the Caput-sihil Corporation." The reporter holds up a cell -- the same kind that Gwen used to catch her first alien. "The creature is currently being held at the Torchwood Institute for further investigation."

Without saying a word, Jack pops the sleeping pill in his mouth and drowns it in a mouthful of water

~~o0o~~

Another day, another treatment. And this time, Ianto fell asleep on the table while he was waiting for the swelling to go down.

Ianto props himself up on his elbows. He looks around. Ortega has already left, although Ianto supposes that it doesn't matter. He's been through the process enough times, he knows what the protocol is: rub the ointment on the site if it continues to burn; take the red pill; if the site still hurts after a day, call a nurse.

He saunters around the room for a bit, testing out his leg. There is a definite improvement.

He peeks into the adjacent lab where Ortega carefully removes a human heart from a container, trying not to get her hand tangled in the wires and tubes that allow it to keep beating. Once it's out, she slides a syringe into the muscle and, after, pauses as if to admire it for a moment. When she lifts it up to put it back in its container, the heart catches the light and glistens. Ianto has to catch his breath.

She notices him at the window and removes her gloves to open the door.

"I… didn't… mean to intrude," he stammers.

"Would you collect empty test tubes on that table and put them into the sterilization unit?" she asks.

Ianto nods, "Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you. The other orderlies… they're very competent, but they don't… They think I'm…" She shrugs.

He offers her a sympathetic smile.

As Ianto rounds up the test tubes, he notices that there are seven other hearts, floating in glass containers and pumping blood provided by a machine, on a countertop -- all of them labeled NACON H, followed by a number. "Are these to be transplanted into people?" he asks.

"They're test subjects, all created by the same donor stems," she replies. "They all belong to me." She slouches on her stool and taps the container of the heart she just treated. "But they're not telling me anything."

"Oh," he whispers, grateful for the cleanly, sterile, clinical atmosphere in the room that takes away some of the eeriness. However, it's almost silly to be scared, Ianto decides. This is the stuff that life is made of. His own heart used to live in one of these fancy jars.

~~o0o~~

A few nights later, Xochitl Ortega measures the amount of airborne toxins in the bar and enters them into her PDA. She takes a scan of Ianto's neck to measure the white blood cell activity in his blood. She puts both the scanner and her PDA into her bag, and doctor and patient walk out of the bathroom stall. An alien with blue fur gives them a knowing look. Ianto turns bright red and scurries back to the table.

Jack is at the bar, arguing with Kika. Although she is currently being combative, she is fetching. It's easy to see what Jack sees in her.

Ianto walks to the bar and hears Jack say, "You know what I like about you? You always want to do things your way. No compromises. It's cute to watch you trip over yourself."

"Well, the miracles that she performs… sometimes, they border on the obscene," Kika says.

"Oh… hello?" Ianto says. "Thought I'd help you with the drinks."

Kika smirks and says, "Your boyfriend is an idiot."

"Well, I like my men cute, but dumb," Ianto replies. He gestures at their table. "Would you care to join us?"

She glances at Ortega with a surprised expression on her face. "Is she here with the two of you?"

"Do you know her?" Ianto asks.

"I used to…" Kika doesn't finish her sentence. "You know what? I should go home. I've got a city to reform in the morning. See you boys later, eh?" She kisses both men on the cheek before she leaves.

"What was that all about?" Ianto asks as he walks with Jack to their table.

"It's an old custom that goes back centuries in some cultures," Jack explains. "Personally, I think it should catch on all over the universe. Think how much happier people would be if they kissed hello and goodbye."

"What I meant is you seemed to be arguing with her."

"Kika isn't exactly a member of Mona's fan club."

"And you are?"

Jack narrows his eyes at Ianto as he sets the drinks down on the table.

Xochitl takes a sip from her fruity cocktail and then says, "Bayil tells me that you are still experiencing tension and pain in your left thigh."

"Yes," Ianto replies. "And in my calf as well."

She bobs her head up and down. "I'll deal with the thigh first thing tomorrow. We've produced very good results with your body. I'm treating a soldier with a severe case of nerve damage next week. I think we'll make a difference."

"Good," Ianto replies.

"He's scared. I'm scared," she mumbles.

"You're scared of what?" Ianto asks.

"He won't be like you -- quiet, dignified."

"Ianto Jones is one of a kind," Jack says.

"Not really," she replies. "Technically, he's a copy."

"Yes, of course," Jack says.

Her spine straightens and her head pops up like a meerkat when the next song begins. With her lips attached to the straw in her drink, she wanders towards the bandstand.

Jack sort of smiles as he watches her. "She's right to be scared about meeting her next patient. Not many are as patient as you are."

"You want me to be her assistant."

"Didn't you say that you've started helping her in the lab?"

"With small tasks, but I have no training."

"You're a fast learner, and she could use the help in the non-medical department. You could be there for her when she starts seeing the next clinical trial patient and help her break the ice."

"If you're using her social disorder as an excuse not to go back to Cardiff, that's a little sad," Ianto tells him. "Besides, it's not as if I'm highly social myself."

"But you can at least fake it, which is more than I can say for her."

"With all of the medications that have been developed over the centuries and all of the medical advancements, you'd think that they'd have something for social avoidance personality disorder, especially in a case like hers."

"You really don't want to stay here, do you?"

"It's a beautiful city. The weather is lovely --"

"Low crime rate," Jack interjects.

"Identity-stealing smoke monsters not-withstanding."

"Beats having a gun in your face."

"True," Ianto admits. "Although I'm not certain that I have an identity to steal, from a legal standpoint, of course."

"I can take care of that."

"Yes, this city has everything I could ask for, but something about this place doesn't sit well with me at all."

"Not something. Someone," Jack replies.

"And she's everywhere."

"She's not here."

"Are you sure?"

"Anywhere we go, there's bound to be something you hate," Jack says. "Aren't you enjoying tonight? With me?"

"Yes, but --"

"We stay here, and we get nights like this all of the time. Whereas, if we go back to Cardiff… How many dates have been ruined by Weevil chases or rift disturbances?"

"I'd say 85-90%," Ianto estimates, "but rift alarm or not, our dates always ended up the same way… with both of us very satisfied. Besides, it's not like we've had a lot of nights like these so far."

"We could."

"But what if it was the danger that kept us together? Danger is like an aphrodisiac to you," Ianto points out.

"After everything I've been through, I'm not the same man I once was," Jack replies.

Ianto sighs. "I know. I see it, and it's strange because I jumped through time in an instant."

"What if I can't be the man you want me to be?"

"I'm not giving up on you so easily."

"So I'm stuck with you?"

"Yes."

Jack's eyes soften, "Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Ianto sips his drink and smiles. In an over-protective move, Jack has ordered him fruit juice instead of the whiskey he wanted. And Jack is drinking water like the old days. Sometimes, Ianto catches him looking out into the crowd with suspicion as if something was going to leap out at them at any moment. The old fighter is in him. He has something to protect, and that's a start.

Out of the blue, someone yells for a doctor, and there's a crowd around the space where Ortega should be. Jack immediately goes to investigate with Ianto following on his heels, and by the bandstand, they find the doctor leaning on the stage and having a full-blown panic attack. Her blouse is soaked in her drink.

Ortega clings to Ianto who hurries her outside into the fresh air.

"So what were you saying about our dates?" Ianto says to Jack as they get Ortega into a cab.

~~o0o~~

The men escort Ortega back into her flat, and Ianto follows her into the bedroom. The ceiling is domed and painted in a reddish color. Her walls are unadorned, and her dresser is devoid of any personal touches, but it still feels homey. In fact, the whole room reminds him of a womb, which may be in fact what she was aiming for in her décor.

He tries to think about what Gwen would do in this sort of situation. She'd tell Ortega that what happened wasn't such a big deal. Maybe she'd sit with the doctor and hold her hand. Gwen would ask questions. She'd look for the humanity in Xochitl Ortega -- the part of her the good doctor that makes her just like everyone else.

Except that Ianto isn't good at that sort of thing. He can't sit and hug her and tell her everything is going to be all right. On the other hand, that level of comfort doesn't seem right for either of them. That approach may make the situation worse.

He doesn't face her directly, and he keeps his voice low and calm. "If you'd like, I can treat that stain before it sets."

"It was an accident," she replies. It's the first thing she's said since they left the bar.

"They happen."

"Someone bumped into me."

"It was crowded."

She nods. "I'm sorry I ruined your evening." She sits up straight and says in a clear voice. "You can go now."

He waves awkwardly before slinking out the door.

~~o0o~~

They go back to Caput-sihil because Ianto, unlike Jack, has a comfortable bed in his quarters.

As he gets undressed, Ianto asks, "Can you imagine what the market must have been like for her?"

"She wasn't alone. The driver was with her."

"And then we go and take her into a crowded bar."

"But she wanted to come with us."

"Because she was conducting some sort of research."

"If it was really that important to her, she could have sent someone else. All that person would have to do is relay the information to her," Jack says. "Maybe it's seeing you getting stronger… maybe you're inspiring her."

"She looked like a complete mess."

"But for a while, she was happy. Baby steps," Jack says.

Ianto gets the urge to run his hand through Jack's hair. The old him would have ignored that urge. The old him would have though such a gesture was silly and domestic. The new him does it anyway because it feels good.

"Tell me about Stephen," he says.

"We should probably get to --" Jack stops himself from changing the subject. "Why?"

"I like stories about heroes," Ianto replies.

"I…"

Ianto gives Jack a warm kiss on the top of his head. "Take your time."

"He was blonde," Jack says slowly. "Loved football. Good at it, too."

"Yeah? Did he play on any teams?"

"At his school," Jack replies, trying to hold himself together.

"What position?"

"Midfielder."

"Did you ever watch him play?"

"Ianto…"

"Did you?"

Jack nods. "I was so proud of him that day."

In a halting speech with very little detail, Jack tells him about how Stephen assisted in two out of the four goals that the team made that day. While he's relieved that Ianto doesn't press him for more of the story, he seems happy to have been able to share a good memory about his grandson.

That night, Jack doesn't have any nightmares, or at least not ones that Ianto is aware of.


	9. Into the Woods

About mid-morning on the following day, Ianto reports for his next treatment, but Ortega isn't in the procedure room. Instead, she's in her lab, sitting in her chair with her legs pulled up so that her feet rest under her thighs. Before her in a metal bowl is a heart that has been sliced open to reveal two of its four chambers. She stares at the heart, poking at it with a long cotton swab.

Ianto clears his throat. "I'm ready for my treatment."

"Mmhm," she replies, her eyes fixated on the heart. She cocks her head. "It stopped beating."

"I'm sorry. Shall I dispose of it?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay," he replies, for lack of anything better to say. He notices that only two of the hearts are still in their containers, but she's growing another one in a machine. He watches the tissue fill in the hologram template, wondering how anyone could get used to that sight.

"Grab your stems out of the fridge, and we'll get started," she mutters as she covers the dead heart with a blue cloth.

Ianto considers asking her how she's doing, especially after the evening she had, but decides to do as he's told instead. He looks through the refrigerator, browsing through the medications until he finds the vial labeled "Ianto Jones -- stem cells (altered - NH)."

"Why does it say that my stems have been altered?" he asks Ortega as she gets her equipment ready.

She shudders as if he's broken her concentration. "They're not yours technically speaking," she explains. "Actually, when I reconstructed your body, I had to use donor stem cells because your stems weren't viable. You were dead. I altered the stems, of course, with your DNA so you would be you. Those are leftovers."

"And the NH?"

"He's the donor."

"Like Nacon H?"

"Yes. We should get started." There's a slight quiver in her voice. Ianto decides to drop the subject before she starts trembling, which could put him in a worse state than she started.

He smiles at her. Her face contorts into something that resembles a grin, and they fall back into their doctor/patient relationship without any more fuss. As she works, she relaxes into a Zen-like state.

However, just when Ortega injects the stems into Ianto's leg, Mona enters the room. Ianto tries to grab his trousers, but they are out of reach and his leg isn't working yet. The doctor leaves the syringe in Ianto's leg and nods her head at the CEO. She, then, looks around the room as if lost in her own procedure room, muttering under her breath. Ianto glances from her to the needle. Ortega flexes her fingers several times before she pulls it out.

As the doctor continues the procedure, Mona watches with half interest and asks Ianto, "I wanted to know what you've decided in regards to your stay on this planet."

"It's a lovely city," he replies as the laser sends sharp pulses of heat into his leg. He also feels rather awkward having this conversation in his underwear.

Mona nods in agreement. "Yes it is."

"But I do wonder where I would fit in."

"I think of when the first pioneers decided to construct a city here, knowing very little about the natives and their language. Much like your situation. People adapt, and with my help, you can do whatever pleases you."

"I am sure of that… although I hardly know what I've done to receive such good fortune."

"Do you look at the faces of the people and ask yourself why you happen to be so fortunate? Why did you get a second chance at life?" Mona asks.

"Yes. It's hard not to."

"But you are happy to be with the Captain, am I correct?"

"Yes, I am happy."

"And you are making the relationship worthwhile, I hope."

"Yes."

"Then, that guilt you're feeling…" Mona pauses to find the right words. Then, she raises her eyebrow and puts her hand on her hip. "Get over it. If you are here, it's because you must have done something right. Enjoy the fruits of your labors."

"Just like that? I'm not the only one who did something right."

"Then, call it luck," she says with a highly annoyed tone. "Or destiny. You and your Captain belong here."

"So certain, are you?"

"History will prove that I am right," she says.

Ianto snickers.

"What?" she asks.

He can't very well tell her that she sounded like George W. Bush right now. The reference will be lost on her since history has tried to forget that the bastard even existed. "Nothing," he replies.

Mona bristles ever so slightly before turning to the other woman in the room. "Dr. Ortega, I'd like to see your lab."

Xochitl's face tics, but she turns off her machine and covers Ianto's leg with a cold compress. Trying to adopt an air of professionalism -- an attempt that makes her look stiff and ungainly -- she opens the door to the lab and follows Mona inside the room.

Ianto can only catch bits and pieces of their conversation, but he gathers that Mona isn't happy about Ortega's progress with the hearts. To be honest, Ianto isn't even sure what Ortega is supposed to be researching. A toxin? A new heart medication? Is she trying to design a better, long-lasting heart? Although Ortega's occasionally prone to rambling, she's kept mum on the subject, merely telling Ianto to clean this and fetch that.

The intercom in the procedure room buzzes. Ianto turns his head towards the door and waits. The women are still in the lab, talking. Another buzz. Nothing again. After a few more buzzing sounds, Ianto stands, trying not to put too much weight on his left leg. Perhaps the muscle has healed completely, but he can't be too sure until Ortega gives him the thumbs up. He answers the intercom after a few more angry buzzes. The screen flashes, and the image appears.

The woman on the other end blinks several times and says, "You."

It's Kika.

"I was looking for Mona," the red-head explains.

"She's currently indisposed," Ianto replies.

"And by that you mean…"

"Speaking with Dr. Ortega."

"Look, just go in there, and tell her that Henriquetta Ramos is here to see her."

"And will she know who you are?"

Kika rolls her eyes impatiently. "Of course, she will."

When Ianto enters the lab, the CEO and the doctor are still arguing, only Ortega looks like a mouse waiting to be devoured.

"I don't have enough data," Ortega insists. "I would have to monitor the event several times to come up with any more theories."

"I see," Mona replies. She glances at Ianto. "Is there something you need?"

"Henriquetta Ramos insists on seeing you."

"If it isn't my favorite grass-roots, pain-in-the-neck activist," the older woman says with an almost affectionate smile. She pats Ortega on the arm. "I'll speak with you later," she says as she breezes out the door.

Ortega quietly cleans up her counter of her lab. She nods at the heart and says, "You may destroy it."

Ianto dons a pair of rubber gloves. He, then, places the heart into a machine -- treating it with great care even though it's dead tissue -- and puts an enzyme disk along with it. After he presses a few buttons, the disk is activated, and the heart is vaporized in a cloud of smoke.

Ortega hugs her knee to her chest and studies him with that vague expression of hers, just long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. Finally, she says, "You're very pale."

"Yes?" Ianto replies, wondering if he should be insulted.

"And I need fresh air." Xochitl smiles and picks up the phone.

~~o0o~~

In a pair of hours, Ianto and the doctor make arrangements for a weekend getaway. Ianto orders groceries as well as some new clothes for himself, all on Caput-sihil's tab. Xochitl takes care of their accommodations and transportation. She also calls the security office to request a guard.

"When they told me about my change in assignment," Jack says as he buckles his seatbelt in the company car, "I thought that I was going to have to wait on some boring blowhard for the whole weekend."

"If you play your cards right, I'll show you a blowhard," Ianto replies in Jack's ear. He settles into his seat and asks aloud, "Where exactly are we going?"

"The company cabin," Ortega says. "I very much hope that you'll like it."

And they do. The cabin is a beautiful wooden building with a modern kitchen, a den with a fireplace, and a lovely downstairs bedroom with full bathroom facilities, which Ianto is grateful to see. After his last camping experiences, he absolutely refuses to sleep in a tent. There's also an upstairs bedroom for Ortega. Ianto debates in his head whether or not it's worth it to climb the stairs to get a view from the widow's walk. In the end, he decides against it. Perhaps the next day.

The land lies between two coffee farms, and from the deck in the back of the cabin, Ianto can see trees full of bright red cherries. Even though there is a significant lack of smog in the city due to strict environmental guidelines, out here, the air feels cleaner and crisper, and the smells are sweeter.

Bayil is already there when they arrive. He's wearing a pair of tight black shorts and nothing else, and they all stand in silence and watch him flex his sleek muscles. Apparently, his leopard spots run down his back as well, and they suit him quite nicely.

"Okay," Bayil says to Ianto. "We'll start with your usual stretching exercises and, after, a nice, little hike on the novice trail. Got that?"

Ortega sits on the floor in a half lotus pose, fidgeting with a device, while Jack lies on a deck chair, watching the men work. Ianto doesn't have to see the older man's face to know that he has the filthiest grin on his face while imagining all sorts of situations.

Meanwhile, Bayil toys with Jack. With a sort of impish glee, the physiotherapist spends a bit of extra time correcting Ianto's positions. His fingers linger a bit longer than they should. Jack shifts in his chair and adjusts himself.

"You're only encouraging him," Ianto warns.

"I'm a married man," Bayil whispers into the young man's ear. "Although I don't think my wife would mind so long as I give her the play by play, sparing no detail."

"Jack and his fucking pheromones."

"Not just him, brother," Bayil purrs as he winks at Ianto.

The Welshman turns beet red, but also feels quite flattered indeed.

Ortega abruptly rises to her feet and takes Jack's hand. She pricks his finger and runs a drop of blood through her device.

Once she gets the results, she shows the older man the results of the test and declares, "You're clean."

Jack reads the screen and promptly begins to laugh. Glancing at Ianto, he says, "Good to know."

"Grab your packs, and let's go," Bayil tells them.

Somehow, a productive hike turns into a lazy stroll. Yet, nobody complains. Bayil acts as their guide and moves ahead of them while Jack takes up the rear and gropes Ianto at every opportunity he gets.

A civet-like creature watches the trio from a tree's branches with curiosity, but is too skittish to approach them, seemingly frightened of Bayil. Ianto can't blame the animal. The physiotherapist licks his lips and bares his teeth, displaying something very primal and dangerous under that goldenrod skin. The civet scurries back into his home.

Oh, the stories that Ianto will have for Gwen, Martha and his sister when he gets back. He realizes that he really needs male friends. Well, there's always Rhys, but maybe he should play nice with PC Andy, for once.

"This is as far as I go, boys," Bayil says when they reach a stream. "Ianto, I suggest you take a break before you head back. Captain, if you'll keep an eye on him…"

"With pleasure."

"Snack time in a couple of hours. I assume you'll be peckish by then," the overly familiar physiotherapist remarks.

As soon as Bayil is out of earshot, Ianto says, "It's all a conspiracy to get me to fall in love with this planet."

"Yeah? Is it working?"

Ianto doesn't answer and kisses Jack instead.

"Not yet," Jack whispers. "Get some rest first."

Jack opens his backpack and spreads a blanket over a patch of grass for Ianto to sit on. In no time, Jack strips off his clothes before jumping into the water and splashing around for the young man's benefit.

Ianto, of course, appreciates the show. It's not just watching the water roll off Jack's body (although that is a thing of beauty in of itself) that makes him happy. It's seeing the sheer and naked joy in the older man's face as he does an odd parody of an aquatic dance. It's seeing Jack lighter than he's been in weeks -- like his old self.

"Taught Esther Williams everything she knew," Jack says.

"And fortunately she unlearned all of it before making it in Hollywood," Ianto retorts.

Jack playfully dips under the water. With his cheeks puffed out, he moves towards the shore and, balanced on one leg like a fountain cherub, spits water at Ianto. The young man laughs as he uses the edge of his shirt to pat himself dry.

Ianto takes this as his cue to get undressed, and Jack helps him keep his balance as he walks into the water.

"Fuck, it's cold!" Ianto shouts, but it eases the pain in his leg.

"It's a mountain stream," Jack replies. "What did you expect? It'll get better. Just let your body adjust."

Gritting his teeth, the young man submerges himself into the stream. Jack follows him under and pulls him into a kiss. Ianto stands up in the chest-high water while Jack swims around him, brushing against his body, and like a naughty fish, Jack nips Ianto's thighs, his belly, his love handles, his cock, his balls. After allowing the older man to catch his breath, Ianto holds onto Jack's shoulders and kisses Jack fiercely, feeling so intensely happy to be alive.

They go back to the blanket once again and stretch themselves on it. The sun peeks through the branches of the tall trees and bathes Ianto's skin, warming it up again.

Jack recites:

"_Loaf with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,  
__Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,  
__Only the lull I like, the hum of your valvèd voice."_

"Hmmmm…" Ianto responds as Jack gently touches his chest.

Jack continues:

"_I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,  
__How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently tunr'd over on me,  
__And parted the shirt from my busom bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare- stript heart,  
__And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet."_

Jack lies back and waits. After a moment or so of silence, he pokes Ianto in the ribs.

The young man claps politely. "Oh, yes, that was lovely. Very nice. Walt Whitman, correct?"

"Well?"

"Oh, you want me to… How was I supposed to know? It's afternoon, and there are only two seasons in this particular region -- the rainy season and the dry season. I may be wrong, but we are entering the dry season. Besides, you're already naked so I can't part your shirt from your busom bone. And you don't have a beard. You can't grow one…"

"No sense of poetry," Jack complains.

Ianto laughs, but he licks him from navel to neck. He is about to take Jack's cock in his mouth, he asks, "When Ortega said you were clean…"

"Yes, she meant STDs. Suck away," Jack says. "This was supposed to be romantic."

"Oh, it is. It just depends on how you look at it," Ianto replies.

~~o0o~~

They walk back to the cabin where Bayil is waiting for them with a cheese and cracker tray along with an assortment of fruit. Ortega shuts off her laptop and joins them on the deck where they all sit and eat while Bayil tells them about his family and how much he appreciates his assignment. Having only one patient to deal with at the moment has allowed him to spend more time with the child.

"Here's the luckiest bastards in the world," Bayil says as he raises a glass. However, the thought that they all profited some way in a heavily flawed system isn't lost on any of them. Ortega keeps her eyes on Jack as she drains her glass.

They watch the sun set behind the mountains. Bayil returns to his family. Shortly thereafter, Ortega retires for the night.

Jack lights a fire in the main room while Ianto stretches out on a chaise.

"I really needed that after the morning I had," Jack says, mussing Ianto's hair before planting a small kiss on the top of Ianto's head.

"Yeah?"

"You know the Imperial Stormtroopers from _Star Wars_?"

"Yes."

"That's how good my students were at the shooting range today," Jack says with an eye roll. He slumps into a large chair and pulls his feet onto an ottoman. Ianto wonders how Jack might look with a pipe and a pair of reading glasses. Maybe a pair of slippers and a burgundy robe as well.

"You didn't use your special teaching methods, did you?"

"There are harassment laws that I actually have to follow."

"I see," Ianto says. "My morning wasn't great either. I spoke with Mona Cavendish."

"Still trying to pressure you into staying on this planet, I take it."

"She had the audacity to ask me if I felt guilty when I looked at others, knowing that I was given this gift."

"Do you?"

"Yes," Ianto replies. He could lie, but Jack would probably see right through him. "I can't imagine what it would feel like, looking at Gwen and knowing that I got another shot at life when she might not."

"Maybe I could get Ortega to replicate Gwen," Jack suggests.

"You'd have to become Mona's indentured servant for that favor."

"Just a thought."

After a pause, Ianto says, "I'd bring back Tosh."

"Not Lisa?"

"It's been a long time since I was the man she knew. I'm not the same man she loved."

Jack shifts uncomfortably in his chair. They listen to the noises coming from the second floor. It sounds like Ortega is moving a piece of furniture. The noises stop just as quickly as they began.

"What about Owen?" Jack asks.

"We'll split the cost."

They fall silent. The wood crackles. A glowing ember jumps from the flames before fluttering to the ground and turning to ash.

"I would have died for all of you," Jack says quietly.

"And you have," Ianto tells him. "You've died in so many situations where it could have easily been one of us."

"But you all leave me in the end, anyway."

"There are days when I wished I didn't have to."

"I just got tired of all that death," Jack says. "Torchwood has been decades and decades of nothing but death. I've seen so many agents not reach their fifth year anniversary. For that reason, I tried not to get close. Then, Gwen comes along and tells me that I need to be more human, and you show me how… I loved all of you… you, Owen, Tosh… Suzie."

"But those three years that we had, they were good, yeah?"

"Ianto…" Jack stares at the ceiling, trying to pull himself together. "You asked me that when you died."

"Sorry. Wasn't there."

"Lucky you."

"That's why you don't like any of your students, isn't it?"

"My job isn't to like them," Jack says curtly, "but to make sure that they know how to do their job."

"I think I understand why you left Torchwood, but what I don't quite understand is why you had to leave Earth."

"The chaos was world-wide. There were some countries that were willing to rally together to fight for their children, and they made for stronger nations afterwards. But for everyone of those, there were more countries where the people were still angry and bitter. There were protests, and in some cases riots. Some governments became military coups. And I was responsible for that. If I had stood up to the 456 back then…"

"You can't keep blaming yourself, Jack."

"That's what Gwen said."

"She's a smart lady," Ianto says. "Why'd you take over Torchwood, Jack?"

"For stupid ideals."

"They're not so stupid to me. Why?"

"Because I wanted to break from the past. I wanted to do things differently. I wanted to make things right."

"And that's what you did, wasn't it?" Ianto asks. "You were always telling me how Torchwood made you ruthless, and yet, you rebuilt yourself into someone more heroic."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to live up to that image?" Jack asks.

And there's nothing Ianto can say to that. Jack tries to slip away; however, Ianto catches his wrist before he can get away. The young man doesn't speak. Instead, he squeezes Jack's hand and lets him go.

Jack hesitates before going into the bedroom. He drums his fingers on the door jamb for a few seconds before grabbing his reader and returning to Ianto's side. Ianto picks up his laptop so that he can write in his diary, and they settle in their chairs like an old married couple.

~~o0o~~

Since most of his days have been spent in that sad, personality-free room in the Caput-sihil tower, Ianto cannot remember the last time he's woken up to the scent of bacon and eggs. So when the scent wafts into the cheerful bedroom at the cabin, he ignores the nagging pain in his calf and hobbles into the kitchen where Jack and Xochitl are making breakfast. They both drop their conversation the minute they see Ianto.

"If you had waited a few more minutes," Jack says, "you would have gotten breakfast in bed."

"I'm fine," Ianto replies. "Anyone make coffee yet?"

Xochitl shakes her head.

"Then, I'll take care of that," Ianto says.

It's the first cup of coffee he's made since his rebirth, but with the "antique" vacuum-style coffee maker he has to work with, he has no problems. He knows exactly how much water to use, how much coffee to grind. He's golden.

A nice breakfast and a quick shower later, they head out to the coffee farm where Jack used to work. Zoila shows them around the farm from the mill, where she's in charge of processing the berries, to the series of worker's houses. Ianto even gets a glimpse of the room that Jack shared with Dominguez. The bed's not much bigger than the cot Jack had back at the hub, and the sheets are just about as scratchy -- not that Jack would care about that as much as Ianto tried to educate him about thread count. The windows don't do a very good job of keeping out the noise from outside, and none of the doors have locks, which makes Ianto wonder how Jack dealt with the lack of privacy.

Yax drives Ianto to the grove with Jack and Ortega riding in the back of the truck. Back on Earth, Ianto had thought about visiting a coffee farm. He'd even gone as far as researching prices for air fare and accommodations, but it never amounted to anything more than wishful thinking. Getting away from it all was merely something nice to think about when his to-do list seemed endless or when Jack and Gwen were stepping on his last nerve, but in the end, he never could actually work up the courage to ask for a proper holiday. Asking for days off to visit his sister was difficult enough, especially in the last months as they dealt with the loss of Owen and Tosh.

And now he's here, surrounded by trees filled with bright red cherries. In spite of all the animal chatter, there's a certain peace on the farm that must appeal to Jack. Of course, Ianto flatters himself to think that the older man came here to keep his memory alive. He won't ask Jack about it. The thought will be his private indulgence.

Ianto picks a cherry off its stem and rolls it around between his thumb and forefinger. He splits it open and finds the bean tucked inside. He places the bean in a handkerchief, which he stuffs in his pocket as a keepsake.

~~o0o~~

They invite Jack's friends back to the cabin. Jack, Dominguez and Zoila challenge Yax, Idris and Ortega to some sort of lawn bowling game while Ianto and Roman sit on the deck, discussing current events. During their conversation, Ianto feels as though he's taking an oral exam as he tries to prove to the farmer that he's well-informed enough to pass as any other 33rd Century bloke or "guy" (which is more commonly used in Palenque). The laconic, older man doesn't give any impression to whether or not he's buying it.

However, Ianto finds Roman to be affable man, and Roman appears to enjoy Ianto's company, although the farmer prefers to call him Yantito or "little Ianto."

"Your name," Roman explains. "Sounds like the word for 'cry.' It reminds me of those old Spanish names 'Dolores' and 'Soledad' -- pain and loneliness."

"I once met a man named Grey," Ianto says.

"Sounds like those parents were setting up that child for a dismal life."

Ianto is glad that Jack is out of ear-shot. "But my name is Welsh, not Spanish."

"You from New Earth like Idris?" Roman asks.

"Yes."

"What part?"

"New South Wales… not Australia."

Roman studies Ianto's face for a while, squinting his eyes in the sun. Then, he chuckles. "Your Jack -- when I first met him, I didn't know whether or not to believe a word he said. After getting to know him a bit, I could see that he was a good man. Whether or not he told me the truth about his humble origins doesn't seem so important anymore."

"I find myself in the same situation," Ianto replies.

Roman laughs.

"Woo-hoo!" Yax shouts as she gives Idris a high-five.

Behind her, Jack, Dominguez and Zoila protest.

"Her shot was fair," Yax says. "So quit your whining." She playfully slaps Ortega's ass. Ianto fully expects the good doctor to hyper-ventilate, but Xochitl giggles like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Jack is the first to climb back on the deck. He pulls Ianto up to his feet and kisses the young man in front of the rest of them.

"But you lost," Ianto says.

"I needed a pick-me-up," Jack replies, going in for another snog.

"Get a room," Dominguez tells them.

They all stay long enough to watch "The Amazing Race" -- a show where couples race from planet to planet, completing an assortment of challenges.

"You would kick ass on that show," Idris says to Yax.

"Except that I haven't been genetically enhanced," she replies.

Dominguez grunts in disgust. "What ever happened to making babies the old fashioned way?"

"There's always gene therapy," Zoila suggests.

"On my salary?" Yax asks.

"Well, the show isn't always about ability," Idris points out. "Sometimes, it comes down to luck, like that team of sisters who got caught in that wormhole before they reached Volorian."

"That was sad," Zoila says. "It sent them back to where they started."

"Could have been worse," Roman says with a shudder. "They could have been sent anywhere in the universe."

"Or any time," Jack whispers to Ianto.

Idris turns around to face the men. "Did you watch it, Jack?"

"Jack doesn't even watch reality shows, isn't that right?" Roman says.

Ianto adds, "Never has."

"Why not?" Idris asks.

Jack merely shrugs. Ianto brushes his lips against Jack's temple -- a poor gesture to ease a pain that still lingers inside of the old man. Idris, regretting he asked, turns his attention back to the show.

They call it an evening, and Ianto gets hugs and kisses from all of Jack's friends. While Ianto is embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable with these gestures, he accepts them with good grace, and as he waves good-bye, a little voice inside his head whispers to him: _This could be your life._

If they could get away from Mona Cavendish.

"Bed?" he asks.

"Are you tired?" Jack replies.

Ianto grins. "Not at all."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **The poem Jack recites is an excerpt of "Song of Myself" from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. And I just wanted to write a fluffy chapter before the other shoe drops, and things get really weird.


	10. Biopunked!

In an effort to repay Ortega for the weekend at the cabin, Ianto agrees to speak to her clinical trial patient before the treatment. The patient is a major who sustained a severe back injury while fighting a hostile group of aliens on another colony. While the vertebrae and the discs of his spinal column had been repaired, the nerves are still damaged, leaving him in a wheelchair.

Seeing him, Ianto realizes that he'd always feared death while working at Torchwood, but he never really considered the possibility of being permanently maimed, although when considering some of the scrapes he had, the risk was always very high.

"Hello," Ianto says.

"You gonna fix me?" the soldier growls.

"No. That would be Dr. Ortega."

"Where the hell is she so I can get this over with?"

"There are some things, I'd like to go over with you."

"Is there a problem? Because my case was reviewed and got all necessary approvals."

"This is about her," Ianto says. He takes a deep breath. "Don't be offended if she doesn't make eye contact. She doesn't do that when she's barely met someone. Please do not initiate any physical contact as it makes her nervous. It's best not to raise your voice for the same --"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I am trying to make things run smoothly between the two of you. I think you'll find that she is unique," Ianto explains. He spends some time going over the doctor's laundry list of quirks while trying to make the impression that Ortega is devoted to her work and will do whatever it takes to make him better. He's not even sure that the soldier is taking him seriously.

"You do realize that I'm the patient here?" the soldier says.

"Just trying to give you the benefit of my experience," Ianto says as he pushes the call button.

Ortega enters the procedure room. She glances at Ianto for reassurance. He gives her a okay sign, which she doesn't quite understand. So he smiles at her. She doesn't even look at the soldier and goes straight to her equipment. She bobs her head nervously as she sets up her station. She mutters to herself under her breath, punctuating sentences with moans and whimpers.

"You weren't kidding me, were you?" the soldier says to Ianto after the orderlies have placed him on the table.

"No, I wasn't, but you are in good hands."

Ortega removes two vials from her the refrigerator. She is about to scan the labels when she looks at Ianto. Her mouth twitches. She sets the vials aside and pulls out a third, which she scans and prepares for use.

When she's done, she hands Ianto the unused vials. "Would you have these destroyed, please?"

The first label reads, "Maj. Raul Molina -- stem cells (altered - NH)." And the second one, "Gene Therapy Virus 456NH."

"Are you sure?" Ianto asks.

"Very sure," she replies with a brittle smile. Her eyes glisten with tears. "You may go."

~~o0o~~

After destroying the cells, Ianto sees Bayil for more physiotherapy, followed by a massage and a shower, and during the whole session, he keeps glancing up at the clock and thinking about Ortega and the Major.

When Bayil invites him out the lunch, Ianto replies, "I'd just like to check up on Dr. Ortega and make sure she has everything sorted."

Bayil shrugs as he completes a report.

Mona Cavendish storms out of Ortega's lab seconds before Ianto reaches the door. He's tossed to the side the sheer force of her presence, but manages to recover his footing and nods politely. She pauses, but she doesn't say a word to him. She merely narrows her eyes before continuing down the hall to the lift.

Inside the lab, Ortega is unnerved. She sits in her chair, hugging her knees to her chest. She stares at the floor tiles as if they are made out of hot coals and her chair is her only refuge.

"I've upset her," she says in a voice that's barely audible.

"Did something happen with the Major?"

"He'll walk. After a couple more visits and some physiotherapy."

"And he'll be pain free?"

"Yes."

Ianto frowns and asks, "Then, what is the matter?"

She gazes at him with her mouth open, wanting to speak, but unable to do so. She sets her feet on the floor and takes a deep breath. "Nothing at all. After lunch, I'd like to go over the inventory if you would help me with that, thank you."

"Yes. If you'd like, I could pick something up for you," he offers. "Say some _hanal keh_?"

She removes a lunch box from her medical refrigerator, and her lips curl into something like a smile. Then, she takes the petty cash card from her desk and hands it to him. "But you may go out if you please."

She holds his arm for a moment. If Ianto didn't know any better, he'd say that her gaze is somewhat maternal.

~~o0o~~

Ianto spends the rest of the day straightening the lab with Ortega. They go over every medication and every chemical on the shelves and in the refrigerator. They are halfway through the glassware when Ianto notices the time. Jack will be there soon.

"We can finish tomorrow," Ianto suggests.

"I can finish on my own," she says.

~~o0o~~

Jack presses Ianto against the wall, grinding his hips into the other man's. His lips caress Ianto's neck as he runs his fingers through Ianto's hair.

Ianto fumbles with the touch pad to open the door to his room, all the while saying: "Jack. Oh, fuck, Jack. One moment, please. Oh, God, please. The faster the we get in the faster you can… JACK!"

Suddenly, Ianto hears footsteps. Jack slowly releases Ianto, and they both look down the hallway where Ortega stands in front of the entrance of the procedure room, clutching her PDA. They had time to go out for dinner and a movie, but she's still working.

She waves at the men before ducking into back into her work area, and Jack pulls Ianto into the room before he has time to check his watch.

~~o0o~~

The next morning, Jack wakes Ianto up by pelting the young man with articles of clothing.

"Wake up," Jack shouts as he jumps on the bed and bounces around.

Normally, Ianto would be more than perturbed, but the day is a red-letter day. One more session with Ortega, and he will be pain free. No more libido-sapping, sprit-sucking drugs. No more fear about taking the first step of the day. Being able to run again is just within his reach.

"One more week of physiotherapy," Jack says. He pauses. "And then what?"

"We still have those holiday plans," Ianto suggests.

"We do," Jack replies, his eyes twinkling.

"We could have a month just for ourselves -- no Torchwood, no Mona Cavendish, no this place. Then, home."

"Wherever that is," Jack says.

"Anywhere you are," Ianto replies.

~~o0o~~

If Ianto could bounce in Ortega's lab, he would. He can't help feeling absolutely giddy. So when he sees another doctor in her place, he's visibly taken aback. He stands in the doorway, frozen in place.

"Hello, Mr. Jones," she says -- all smiles and confidence. "I'm Doctor Kellogg."

"What happened to Dr. Ortega?"

"I'm afraid she's ill this morning," she explains. "Hop on up on the table. I'm sure you know the drill."

"It's just that this is my last treatment."

"Yes, I know. Congratulations."

"I thought that she'd be here."

Tossing back a strand of silky blonde hair, she says, "Well, I'm sure she's sorry she can't make it either, but I assure you I know what I'm doing. I've done this procedure plenty of times."

"I thought that she was developing a new technique."

She furrows her brow in confusion. "Re-growing nerve cells? I'll have you know that I've grown entire muscles, Mr. Jones."

"Right."

"Oh, but you're worried about the recovery period. Yeah, I'm not too sure about the particulars of that laser of hers. This time, it'll take considerably longer than what you're used to. You'll have to stay off that leg for a day or so."

"I see. When will Dr. Ortega return, do you think?"

"Not sure. I don't even know what she has," she says. She cocks her head and smiles. "You're not a very trusting man, Mr. Jones."

"No, I'm not."

"You're not going to wait for her to return, are you?"

Ianto's calf flares up again. He's lived with this pain for just about two months in Earth time. He wants to be rid of it once and for all. He really does. It's just strange to want to see Ortega's nervous tics over Dr. Kellogg's supermodel smile, but he feels that he owes Xochitl the honor of performing the last procedure since they've gotten so far together.

And there's something that doesn't feel right at all.

"I'd think I'd like to speak to Dr. Ortega first," Ianto says.

~~o0o~~

However, when he makes the call, Xochitl doesn't answer. He leaves several messages, but she doesn't return them.

Perhaps she really is ill. Supposedly there's some sort of flu that's spreading among the general population. However, nobody else on his floor is sick, and she looked fine last night.

There's also the possibility that Ortega is deliberately missing work. She did have what looked like a bad meeting with Mona, and she doesn't deal with confrontation very well. Honestly, what was Mona expecting from the doctor? Yes, the hearts still aren't ready, but Ortega had only been back for one day. Plus, she had to treat the Major in the morning.

Suddenly, Ianto has a thought. It occurs to him that Ortega was going to inject the Major with the altered stem cells -- stem cells that originally belonged to Nacon H.

That name is starting to bother him. Why would Ortega destroy those donor cells when she'd been using them on him all this time? Why would she use donor cells at all when she could harvest the Major's own nasal stem cells? Perhaps, he's reading too much in the whole donor business, but he looks up Nacon H in the Caput-sihil directory anyway. No hits. He tries the city-wide directory. There's a Harrison Nacon, as well as a Henry, a Hidalgo, a Hilda, a Horatio, and a Hoshi. All of them are human and from military families of respectable rank. He considers calling them to ask if they've donated tissue, but practically everyone in the city has made a deposit in a blood and tissue bank.

Ianto goes back into the lab to access her notes, but doesn't have any luck. Most of what he's able to access is written in a different language, and everything else is password protected.

If he could just talk to her… Then again, it's unlikely that he'd be able to do anything for her since he's in no position of power, and the stuff that she does is largely over his head. However, he can listen, and that's something. Furthermore, as selfish as it sounds in his head, his leg is killing him. He'd like to get the issue resolved soon.

Ianto grabs the petty cash card from Ortega's desk for cab fare. He gets into the lift and pushes the ground floor button. However, the further he descends, the worse he feels. Halfway down to the lobby, the chip that's been imbedded under his skin sends a shooting pain down his spine, and he's collapsed on the floor, unable to move. A man in a lab coat who is riding with Ianto stops the lift and takes him back to his floor.

A tech and Cameron meet him with a wheelchair. Once in the room, the nurse tries to give Ianto a shot, but he yells, "No sedatives."

The tech asks, "Are you sure, buddy?"

"I need to speak with Dr. Ortega," Ianto tells them. "I'm fine. The pain is going away."

"This is protocol," Cameron says.

"For fucking animals," Ianto says. "I'm a human being."

"Hey. The guard just told me there's a problem…" Bayil says as he enters the room. He appraises the situation and drops his bag on the floor. "Why don't I handle this?"

"He won't take the sedative," Cameron says.

"Then, don't give it to him," Bayil insists.

"The subject is showing elevated blood pressure --"

"Probably because he's pissed at you for wanting to jab him with that thing. And by the way, his name is Ianto," Bayil reminds her. "What kind of a fucking nurse calls a man 'the subject?' Now get out of here."

Ianto doesn't quite catch the rest of the conversation as they've switched to a different language, and his translator is experiencing a few glitches after the interference with the medical chip. However, the argument ends favorably with Cameron storming out of the room and leaving Bayil with Ianto.

The young man holds the translator in the palm of his hand. Bayil takes it and attaches it to a cable connected to Ianto's laptop. After pressing a few buttons, he disconnects the translator and places it back into Ianto's ear. "I'm speaking in my native tongue. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Ianto replies. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Bayil closes the translation application on the laptop. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"What?" Ianto asks.

"The translator program changed everything into English."

"Which is my native language. So what's the problem?"

"It translated the names, too," Bayil says. The physiotherapist shows Ianto the screen. Where it once read Nacon, it now reads Captain.

Ianto knew that somebody in the building was studying Jack's tissue, but the building was so large, he never thought that that person was Ortega. He never thought that she could grow multiple hearts from a flap of skin. Then again, where did stem cells come from?

~~o0o~~

Jack enters Ianto's room with an expectant smile on his face. Ianto shakes his head. He explains everything to Jack.

The older man leans on the table, trying to process everything when the phone rings. It's Ortega. Finally. She's sent Ianto a message the reads: "I'd like to speak to you. Please come to my home."

Seconds later, he receives another message: "Don't worry about the chip. It's safe."

~~o0o~~

When the door to Ortega's flat opens, for a split second, Ianto's eyes grow wide. Jack does a double-take. Kika cocks her head and lets out a confused sigh.

"Fancy meeting you here," Jack says.

"Likewise," she replies as she lets them in. "Xochitl called me saying that she was in trouble."

"How is she?" Ianto asks.

"She's kind of a mess right now, and I can't get her to tell me any of the specifics."

Ianto takes Jack's coat and hangs it up on a hook near the door. "But she's not ill?"

"No," Kika says.

"She sent me note asking me to come over," Ianto says.

"Okay." Kika takes a few steps towards the bedroom. She stops and turns around. "Wait. You're not here on company business, are you?"

"No, we came to ask her a few questions," Ianto tell her.

Kika crosses her arms in front of her chest and juts out her chin. "What are you going to say to her?"

"That's between us," Ianto says.

"Since when are you her protector?" Jack asks.

"Hey, I used to look out for her when we were kids," Kika says, her voice getting louder.

Jack chuckles and shakes his head. "And have you been there for her lately?"

"How do I know that Mona Cavendish didn't send you here to talk Xochitl into something that she doesn't want to do?"

"Because he doesn't like Ms. Cavendish very much either," Ortega replies. "You're being very loud."

"Sorry," Kika mutters.

Ortega's eyes and nose are red. Her hair is a mess. She looks up at her creation. "You came."

"Yes, I did," Ianto says. "How are you?"

"Don't know," she says as she sits down on her sofa. "I did something I wasn't supposed to do. I don't know if I did the right thing."

Ianto sits next to Ortega. Kika is about to pull him away but Jack stops her. She gives Jack the sort of look that could kill.

Ianto takes a deep breath and asks, "Does it have anything to do with Major Molina's stem cells?"

"Sort of," Ortega replies. "I was supposed to give him the altered stems."

"Is there anything I should know about them? Is there anything that makes those stem cells special?"

"Nothing."

"If they don't do anything, then why are they so important?"

Ortega shudders and whimpers for a bit. She looks around the room, helplessly, but she straightens up her spine and holds her head up like a good student giving a report.

"The stems belong to Captain Harkness, altered so that the Major's body wouldn't reject them," she says. "When the Captain and I first met, I took his foreskin and tissue from his nose. That was part of the deal. He gets you, and I got some of his tissue for research purposes. As soon as I saw Captain Harkness's foreskin re-grow after I removed it, I saw the potential," Ortega replies.

"Wait. Jack re-grew his foreskin after you circumcised him? How is that even possible?" Kika asks.

Ianto waves her off. "Let's allow Dr. Ortega to finish telling her story."

The doctor's entire face lights up as she speaks. "If I could harness his body's ability to repair itself and transfer that ability to other people, our soldiers would be able to heal faster and live longer and better protect us and all humans everywhere."

"Was I your first patient using these stem cells?" Ianto asks.

"Yes. I created you as one hundred percent human. I sort of told you a fib. I did use an NH, but not the Captain," Ortega says. "It was after I realized some of your nerves were damaged that I decided you were an ideal candidate for my research. At first, I tried gene therapy."

Ianto looks Kika and Jack, hoping that he's not the only slow one in the room. He is. "Could you explain gene therapy?"

"I took a virus and removed the genes that make people sick. I replaced them with the Captain's genes -- the ones I thought were integral in his body's ability to repair itself into your body. Sixty genes total. I injected you with the altered virus."

"Virus 456NH?" Ianto asks, remembering the other vial Ortega had him destroy.

"Yes. Since then, I tried just about everything to turn the genes on -- different proteins, medications, zinc fingers, radio waves, radiation --"

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Radiation?"

"A small dose, very harmless," Ortega admits. "Anyway, while I was waiting for the genes to work, I tried using the Captain's stems. I even thought that the laser was the answer, but as it turns out the laser works on anyone's stems, not just the Captain's."

"And you did all this without Ianto's consent?" Kika asks.

"He's mine until he's completely healed," Ortega whispers. "That's what Ms. Cavendish promised me."

"Xochitl, no person belongs to anyone else," Kika says.

"But I made him," Ortega cries.

"You made him?"

"I grew him in the lab," the doctor explains. "But I would never do anything to hurt Ianto. When he gets hurt, he'll still heal just like anyone else. The only thing I did was to try to make Ianto better. Parents have their children genetically engineered all the time."

"Let's get back to the Major, shall we?" Ianto says. He lowers his voice, hoping to calm Ortega. "You were going to continue your research with the Major, had you not destroyed the cells and the virus."

"You'll be leaving soon, and I'll need a new patient," Ortega replies.

"And you got the Major's consent, I hope." Kika says.

Ortega nods. "I had to. He's a legal citizen who signed up for the trial… although I did retain the right to reject him at any time, which I did, because I should be studying the Captain. But that's not part of his contract with Ms. Cavendish."

"But you tried to clone Jack's heart, instead," Ianto says. "Then, you sliced them open, thinking they might heal themselves."

"Yes," Ortega admits. She grabs a pillow and clutches it to her chest. "It was a lame way to replicate the Captain without replicating the entire Captain."

Mona's plan begins to click into place in Ianto's head. "If Jack takes the position Mona offered him, that will put him into danger zones where he'd get injured…"

"If I could implant a medical chip, then I'd be able to study the mechanism that repairs the Captain's body," Ortega says.

"You know that Jack can heal quickly, but do you know about Jack's other unique ability?" Ianto asks.

"I've read about it in reports."

"Can you imagine if you gave that ability to someone else?"

"Don't you want to stay with the Captain?" the doctor asks. Her voice is desperate as if she's trying to justify her behavior to herself.

Ianto leans back into the sofa, unsure of how to answer that question. He's thought about it… more times than he'd like to admit.

"And you," Ortega says to Jack. "Aren't you happier with Ianto by your side?"

"But I wouldn't want him to suffer like I have," Jack replies.

"So you won't take the job?" Ortega asks.

Jack makes a strained effort to keep his emotions under control. "I think you've given me a good reason not to."

A look of utter disbelief crosses Kika's face. "You really don't have a problem with experimenting on Ianto or on Jack, do you?" When Ortega doesn't answer, she asks, "Then, why are you telling us all this?"

"Because I can't experiment on Jack, not legally anyway." Ortega says. "And I won't do anything that will breach his contract with Mona."

"Does Mona want to experiment on Jack without his consent?" Ianto asks.

Ortega nods. "But I won't. Rules are rules."

Kika scoffs. "Mona's always used shady legal tactics and manipulation, but if she crosses that line, what else is that woman capable of? We have to go public."

Ianto shakes his head. "If we did, we'd have to expose Jack's… abilities, and I'm not prepared to do that."

"And I don't think that going around yelling that Ianto is a clone is going to help the matter either," Jack says.

"So what do we do?" Kika asks.

Jack turns to the doctor. "First thing, you have to fix Ianto as promised. And you have to take the chip out."

"Then, we destroy all of Jack's tissue samples in that lab -- the foreskin, the stem lines, the hearts all of it," Ianto says to Jack. "Maybe those genes will never work for anyone else, but just to be on the safe side."

"That's just putting a bandage on a bigger problem" Kika points out. "What about Mona?"

"If you want her out of Caput-sihil, you'll have to dig up something else on her," Jack says.

Kika laughs bitterly. "Me?"

Ianto clears his throat. "What Jack means is, can you think of anything, Miss Ramos?"

"Well, I've been trying to dig up info about the smoke monster," Kika suggests.

Ianto frowns. "Why?"

"Think about it. The low-tech is a low-rent district. If you're gonna wipe out people's bank accounts or steal their identities, why not hit the Ah-miatzil?"

"I live in the Ah-miatzil," Ortega says.

"Because you can afford it," Kika replies.

Ianto nods, "The only people who go into the low-tech are the working class and people who are not very fond of Ms. Cavendish."

"I had friends in that bar. They were planning a demonstration, and they lost all their info in that heist. Days after the monster was captured, they were arrested on trumped up charges, and now, their organizations are being investigated as centers of insurgency."

"Do you have any proof that Cavendish has something to do with this?" Jack asks.

"Nothing concrete," Kika admits. "I tried to contact Torchwood, thinking I could get some sort of reading on the creature. You know, to get an idea of its origins. But they won't talk to me."

Ianto looks at Jack, who looks away.

"Can you get in?" Kika asks.

"We're not even from this planet," Jack says. "I'm just a basic training instructor, and he's a lab assistant."

"Really?"

"Yes," Jack insists. "And it's late. We are keeping the good doctor up past her bedtime. She has a busy day, fixing Ianto tomorrow, and we should get going."

"We haven't really decided what we're doing here," Kika says.

"We'll call you," Jack says as he walks out the door.

"I have to…" Ianto says, motioning towards the door.

"Whatever happens, I'm going to have to give up my research, aren't I?" Ortega asks. She turns to Ianto. "I was supposed to make you exceptional. Ms. Cavendish told me so."

"Not a word of this to her," Ianto tells her. "For me."

She nods and slink out into her room.

Kika follows Ianto into the hallway and enters the lift with the men.

"I won't have my city enter the moral and ethical dark ages," she says. "Then again, what am I saying? We're already there. It's bad enough that we live under a eugenic hierarchy. And then you have this guy made. I mean, was it a custom job? Do they have a catalog where you could pick and choose his features?"

"Mona was going to go ahead with the process regardless of what I said or did," Jack says. "I did, however, obtain his memory imprint."

"The memory imprint was modified for human use with the best intentions," Kika says. "You know, for Alzheimer's patients, people with brain tumors. Sometimes, neurological procedures failed, and memories got wiped. It was a reset of sorts. But it's like anything else. If it gets in the wrong hands…"

"Just say it," Jack says. "Tell Ianto what you really think about him."

"All right. You are not supposed to be here," she tells Ianto.

"Am I supposed to kill myself, then?" the young man asks.

She bites her lip and looks away. "You can at least help me set things right, Jack. Who knows what sort of Pandora's box you've opened when you commissioned your little clone?"

"And getting rid of Mona Cavendish will fix everything?" Jack asks.

Kika shrugs out of frustration. "It's a start."

The lift doors open, and Kika goes her own way.

Once outside, Ianto takes in a lung-full of air and exhales slowly. "The trees look different."

How many of those trees had to be genetically engineered so that they could coexist on the same street?

~~o0o~~

The men go back to Jack's flat because, despite the bed and its lumpy mattress, it feels somewhat safer there. At least the walls aren't listening.

"What do you really think you'd accomplish by going back to Torchwood?" Jack asks. "You're a thousand-year corpse. Your password has been purged from the system by now, wouldn't you say?"

"I could say I fell through the rift," Ianto replies as he takes off his trousers and tosses them in the laundry cleaner.

"They'll probably try to send you back."

"Or you could go."

Jack hands Ianto a robe. "The prodigal son returns."

"Then again, maybe you've already returned. Suppose I go to the Torchwood offices and see you there. Hmm… Suppose you don't remember me."

"If I am still with Torchwood, I'm certain that future me will sort things out."

"What future me…" Ianto's voice trails off as he thinks of the gift that Ortega tried to give him. He thinks about entering Torchwood and seeing a future version of himself there.

They sit at the table, and Jack holds Ianto's hand.

"You know, it's weird knowing that I have your genes in me," Ianto admits. "Suppose that through some miraculous event, the genes turn on, and I keep living… God, it's like having a bomb inside of me, waiting to go off."

Jack winces. "Can you use another analogy, please?"

"Okay, it's like when Lisa found out that she had the gene for breast cancer. She couldn't sleep for a week and kept checking herself for lumps."

"So not dying is like cancer?"

"Okay, worse…" Ianto replies. "Or… I don't know."

"We don't even know what those genes will do. Maybe you'll just heal quickly, but still remain mortal. If they turn on, that is."

"I suppose I shouldn't really worry about it. The genes have left your body. They are no longer a part of you. They are no longer taking orders from whatever it is that keeps you alive."

"Right," Jack says as he stands up. He leans over and kisses his lover on the top of the head.

"You could have just gotten a vaccine and given it to me in that London hotel room."

Jack smirks. "That would have defeated the purpose of kidnapping you and getting you out of Torchwood."

"And I suppose vaccinating me would have made too much sense."

"Yep."

"Yep."

"Ianto?"

"What?"

"Don't get swept up in Kika's plans or Ortega's mad ideas, " Jack says. "There's far too much hearsay and too many theories and not enough evidence. Even if they do kill me, do you really believe that would help Ortega figure all of this out?"

"Are you willing to risk it?"

"I already have," Jack replies. "And just seeing you there in my robe, sitting at my table, makes it all worth it."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. I'm blaming the Yankees for distracting me from fic. And this chapter was a bitch to write.


	11. All Roads Lead to Torchwood

Ianto studies a bruise on his hip. It's oval shaped, fairly new, mostly purple with a splattering of red, green, and yellow. It still hurts if he presses it. He has another bruise on his knee. This one is a pale yellow-green -- just about faded. In a couple of days, it'll be completely gone. He can say this with certainty because he's had enough bruises, bumps, scratches and cuts to know how long it takes his body to heal. Of course (and maybe it's just his imagination) he seems to be healing faster. But it may seem that way because he's eating well and getting enough rest (more or less). He's also on a different planet, where the days are longer, and that has got to throw off a man's sense of timing. In any case, he doesn't have the same healing abilities as Jack.

But it's conceivable that he'll monitor every bump, bruise, scratch and cut that he gets from here on out.

He also finds himself studying Jack. He knows that it's rude to stare, even if it's his boyfriend who he loves with his entire heart and all that shit, but he cannot help it. After a difficult night filled horrible dreams, Jack looks surprisingly refreshed, not a flaw on his face other than the crumb on the corner of his mouth. Ianto, on the other hand, has bags under his eyes, which are bloodshot from tossing and turning on that horrid mattress.

And yet, it's only when Ianto looks hard enough that he sees the exhaustion and sadness in Jack's eyes. The young man has learned how to look for it.

Ianto's stomach growls a bit as he watches Jack eat. He's having the chip removed today. He got a message from Ortega, telling him not to eat, but he tries to grab a sausage anyway. Jack raps Ianto's knuckles with the back of a fork.

Ianto holds up his coffee mug. "At least you can't take this away from me."

~~o0o~~

The removal of the medical chip happens without any fuss. In under four hours, Ianto is taken to the operating room, sedated, operated on and wheeled back into his room. When he wakes up again, he's not in much pain, but there's an itch coming from the incision sight. Ianto tugs at his neck brace, hoping that the friction will create some relief.

His body also feels somewhat foreign to him, just like it did when he first woke up on the planet.

"Give it a couple of hours while you heal," Ortega says.

She continues with her post-surgery exam, making notes and checking things off as she goes along. Ianto would like to make a display of gratitude towards Ortega, but, on the other hand, he's not sure what to think of her. In the morning light, he's well aware that she lied to him and tried to make him, in her words, "exceptional" without his consent. Yet, his experience can't compare to what those unfortunate men went through in Tuskegee syphilis trials, and Ortega hadn't done anything on par to what the Nazis did to their unwilling subjects. She did treat him like property, which technically, he is since he doesn't have a legal identity. But for all of that, he's disappointed in her, rather than angry. If she had just confided in him earlier… if she had just given him the choice… would he have agreed to the treatment?

Ianto takes the over-the-counter anti-inflammatory pill that Jack offers him instead of the red pill he normally takes after procedures. Ortega doesn't protest. Instead she asks Ianto to get out of bed and walk.

"So soon?" Jack asks.

"Don't see why not," the doctor replies.

Jack reluctantly helps the young man to his feet.

Ianto's legs feel like jell-o, and he stumbles in his first steps. "Still a bit light headed is all," he says to Jack. He takes a few deep breaths and gets his bearings. Then, right foot first, one step at a time, he walks from his bed to the bathroom and back.

"Don't think I can dance a jig," Ianto says, "but, come to think of it, I was not able to dance one before." He walking the same distance again, this time with much more confidence. He even picks up the pace.

"Good," Ortega says as she scribbles a few notes into her PDA. "I'll need to take some scans of your neck to make sure that everything's healed properly, but that will have to wait until the afternoon. In the meantime, no sudden movements. No heavy lifting. Don't try to walk too fast, and get plenty of rest. You should probably eat. You must be very hungry."

"I could murder beans on toast," Ianto replies.

The doctor frowns, and her nose wrinkles. "Doesn't the bread get soggy?"

"Whatever is available is fine as long as it's not that food paste," Ianto answers.

For a moment, her shoulders relax until she glances at Jack. She quickly gathers her belongings and opens the door, only to find Mona Cavendish is waiting on the other side. When the CEO of Caput-sihil enters, she doesn't acknowledge Ortega, and the doctor slips into the hallway, whimpering as she scurries away.

Mona nods at the men cordially, before saying, "I decided to pop by and see how the two of you are doing. And may I say, it is nice to see you on your feet, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you," Ianto replies.

"Always so polite. I cannot tell you how refreshing that is," Mona says cheerfully. "I hope that you are satisfied with the work Dr. Ortega has done with you. Of course, I apologize for your initial inconveniences."

"Thank you," Ianto says once again with a cordial expression. However, his voice is much more strained.

She turns to Jack. "Well, Captain, he's not exactly one hundred percent right now, but well on the way. By the end of the week, he'll be running right into your arms."

Jack can't do polite so easily, and today, he's not having any of it. "And until then?"

Mona's eyebrow flickers, but remains as cool as ice. "The two of you will fulfill our initial contract, of course. Mr. Jones will remain in Caput-sihil at the discretion of Dr. Ortega, and you will continue to work with the cadets. After which, you are both welcome to stay under my employment. And speaking of which," she hands a card to each of the men, "I've taken the liberty of drawing up contracts for the both of you."

"I get one, too?" Ianto asks as he scans the card into his laptop.

"I think I'd like you to stay on as Dr. Ortega's assistant," Mona explains. "She has taken quite a shine to you, which is quite rare, considering that she's a bit of a broken egg."

"Broken egg?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that the company is somewhat responsible for the doctor's social short-comings. You see, she's the first person to be grown successfully in an artificial womb; however, the experience has left her… well, I'm sure I don't need to get into it. Broken eggs are what we call our less than successful ventures, although I cannot recall the origin of that expression."

Jack looks up from his contract. "You want me to be starship captain."

Mona nods. "You'll have your own ship. You'll be expected to make deliveries every two weeks, but, if all goes well, you won't be gone for more than three or four days at a time."

"And I suppose these deliveries will put me in the most dangerous war zones?"

"I don't see why not," Mona says. "You are the man who can't die. With that skill, why would you ask someone else to face the danger?"

For a moment, Jack appears flummoxed, so Ianto speaks: "And meanwhile your scientists will watch Jack as if he were some lab rat."

"We like to keep a close eye on the health of our soldiers," Mona responds. "But yes, I would like to find the secret to your ability to stay young and healthy."

"And pass it on to your soldiers," Jack says.

"Well, yes."

"And who else?" Jack asks.

"I have given some thought to extending that privilege to some of the city's outstanding citizens."

"I see," Jack replies. "And how exactly will you decide who lives and who dies?"

"Obviously, we will have a thorough screening process which will take into account a person's potential as well as their achievements." She throws a quick glance at Ianto. "We will rely on more than mere sentimentality."

"You have no idea what it is that you're asking for," Jack says.

"I am asking you to save the best of us," she says. And as she speaks, she breaks through her normally placid veneer to reveal a woman of passion and conviction. "I am asking you to help me build an army worthy of protecting the human race and enabling peace. With your help, we can create stable societies for all humans in every corner of the universe, just like the one outside that window. Here you can see here that human and non-humans live peacefully in every strata. But it's not so in many other places. Elsewhere, humans are looked down upon, spat upon, murdered and enslaved when all they want is a home. We are not to be seen as an inferior race, but as a people who, in times of peace and prosperity, can offer art, commerce, health."

Jack crosses his arms in front of his chest. "And what if I refuse?"

She scoffs as though she's never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. "Would you? Captain Harkness, we've designed the experiment to be as ethical as possible. What is a small amount of momentary suffering when you can save countless lives?"

"Answer the question. What if I refuse?"

Mona sighs and shakes her head in disappointment. "Then, I suppose we'll have to wish you the best."

Jack hands the card back to Mona. Ianto does the same.

"Are you certain?" she asks.

"I am," Jack replies.

She pauses and straightens herself up. She, then, looks Jack dead in the eye and says, "Then, I suppose the three of us will have to make the best of our time together."

"I didn't choose to keep living after I should rightfully be dead," Jack says slowly as if speaking to a child. "And I wouldn't wish this burden on anyone."

"Well, here's another thing to consider, Captain Harkness," Mona says. "If we can figure out what it is that's keeping you alive, then perhaps we can figure out how you can stay dead… if that's what you want."

Ianto's television turns itself on, which almost makes the young man jump out of his skin. Mona's receptionist appears on the screen. "Ms. Cavendish, the General and his staff are waiting for you in the conference room."

"Thank you, Claudia," Mona says. She clicks off the television and turns to Jack again. "I'd like to stay and chat longer, but I have a meeting. And don't forget, while you are free to do as you please this morning, you have cadets to instruct this afternoon. You wouldn't want to breach your contract, would you? Let's see… You have target practice today, correct?"

"They're in the classroom."

She pauses to consider this. "I see. In the meantime, I've arranged for you to have lunch in greenhouse. I hope you'll enjoy it. And good day to you both."

Neither of the men nod, not that Mona cares if they do or not. She's out the door before giving them a chance to respond, but that's the way it is with that woman. She needs to have the last word. She needs to be in control.

~~o0o~~

The men are escorted to the greenhouse on the roof of the building, where a table, surrounded by rows of exotic plants, is waiting for them. Outside the windows, there's nothing but aquamarine. It's the first clear sky of the year, the weather report said. The dry season has officially begun.

They eat in silence for a while. Ianto struggles as he tries to eat, which is to be expected since he's just had a series of probes removed from his brain stem and cerebellum, but after the first couple of forkfuls fall into his lap, his arm remembers what it's supposed to do and functions accordingly. He glances up a Jack's troubled expression from time to time until he finally puts his fork down and places his hand over Jack's.

"We're almost out of this," Ianto says.

"Yep," Jack replies.

"Pretty soon we'll be on a gorgeous beach, sipping fruity drinks and reading crap novels. Though I'm still not completely convinced about the clothing-optional one, mostly because of sunburn than anything else."

Jack attempts a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes "Yeah," he says quietly as he pulls his hand away. Lost in thought, Jack tears off a piece of his flatbread and dips it in the sauce before putting it in his mouth.

Ianto flexes his fingers a couple of time before taking another stab at his vegetables. "The whole time Mona was speaking, I kept thinking about Emily Holroyd," he says, trying to keep his voice casual.

Jack pauses mid-chew. He swallows, and then, picks up the bait that Ianto laid out for him. "I had a dream about them last night."

"I thought you were having more nightmares about… well, you know."

Jack shakes his head. "For once I didn't."

"Emily… did she ever…?"

"Turn me into her lab rat? Yeah. She did. She found all sorts of ingenious ways to kill me. Of course, her research was hindered by the lack of quality medical equipment like they have here. Emily didn't even have a decent EEG, but I think she was more interested in torturing me than she was in solving the puzzle."

"Whereas Mona is so interested in solving the puzzle, she's willing to torture you for the benefit of mankind. But, yes! I'm quite certain her poor heart will ache for you."

"Maybe I should let her kill me, just once. If only to show her what an impossible thing I am."

Ianto almost chokes on something blue. After a few seconds of coughing, followed by a sip of water, he asks, "What are you saying?"

Jack throws his hands up in surrender. "You're right. You're right. As soon as you're healed, we're out of here."

"Why can't we leave now?"

"This thing," Jack says, pointing to his Vortex Manipulator, "is only designed to carry only one person. More than that, and it's a huge headache for everyone involved. I don't want to risk --"

"Fine."

"Until then, we have to play along to Mona's game."

Ianto wishes that he could put Jack in some sort of personal force field where nothing could touch the immortal man. However, he knows in his gut that if Mona is going to take Jack down, she could do it at any time she pleased, and that he may become collateral damage in the process. All he can say is, "Jack, please be careful…"

"I haven't seen her do anything illegal, yet," Jack tells him. "She has too much to lose."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I will personally take her down myself," Jack promises.

Without any resources or friends in high places, that vow doesn't make Ianto feel any better.

~~o0o~~

Ianto's mind races as the mechanical eye circles around his head, snapping up a new image with every pass. He worries about Jack. He wonders if he'll ever be healthy again. He wonders they'll ever get out of this city. He wonders if he'll be offered some Dramamine once this exam is over since the eye is making him dizzy.

Ortega watches the screen as she chews on her bottom lip. "So far so good."

"But not completely healed," Ianto mutters.

"The removal of a medical chip does fall into the category of brain surgery," she points out. She helps him back into the neck brace. "You may go, but I'd like to see you again in two hours time."

"Right," Ianto says, but he doesn't leave the room. He shoves his hands in his pocket of his trousers and asks, "Out of curiosity, how did you know?"

"Know what?" Ortega replies.

"How did you know which genes to remove from Jack's DNA?"

She sighs, possibly in frustration that her experiment has come to and end. She answers anyway. "Somatic changes are never passed on to offspring."

"Meaning?" Ianto asks.

"The Captain wasn't born with his healing abilities," Ortega explains. "His parents never had them, unless the Captain was lying or ill-informed, and his children never inherited them either. So I figured that his cells had experienced a somatic genetic change. It's like you. I've altered your DNA with the virus, but it's an artificial chromosome. You'll never pass on those genes to your children if you so chose to have them. That is the rule of somatic gene therapy."

"Jack's children?" The plural form is what gets him.

"Since the discovery of DNA," she explains, "Torchwood Two kept cryogenically-frozen blood samples of the Captain's children until the genomes could be mapped. Actually, it was a Torchwood One and Two sort of joint-project. Torchwood One did most of the collecting, while the samples were kept at Two. There was a memo saying that the 'daft, smug bastard' would never think to look in Two." She looks up at Ianto and says, "The Torchwood archives are very well-organized, by the way."

"So that's it?" Ianto says. "You merely compared Jack's DNA to that of his children."

Ortega nods. "It was a process of elimination, really. But I must say that the Captain's genome is quite fascinating. He introduced some alien markers into the population way before first contact with those particular species."

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"The files on Jack's children."

Sitting at her desk, Ortega opens the Torchwood database and types in her password. After touching the screen several times, she says, "These are the 20th Century files."

There are ten names in all, but with the exception of Alice Carter, that's all they are to Ianto -- merely names of people who are supposedly connected to Jack.

Ortega relinquishes her chair to Ianto. He touches the name at the top of the list, and a picture of a man appears, along with a digital copy of a birth certificate. Underneath that is a series of colorful graphs, one for each chromosome, each marked with long sequences of Ts, As, Gs, Cs and, occasionally, Zs, Qs, Bs and Ns. Torchwood had gone as far as to construct a large family tree, stemming from that one descendant of Jack's, all the way into the current Century. From that page, Ianto accesses similar information about the man's mother.

He skims over the files one by one; however, all he finds is a dry list of medical facts, nothing about where Jack's children went to school or where they lived or what they did for a living.

"Is that all there is?" he asks.

"That's all I needed," Ortega replies. "And that's all I'm privy to -- medical information and nothing more. Although…"

"Although what?"

"It's stupid really."

"Tell me."

"There's this funny icon at the bottom of each page," she says as she scrolls down. "Every time I click on it, I get this message."

She clicks on a cartoon drawing of a pteranodon, and the screen prompt says, "What's my name?"

"Holy shit," Ianto whispers. He types _Myfanwy_, slowly and using two fingers because his hands are shaking.

The next question on the screen asks, "And what is my favorite food?"

He types _chocolate_.

"Dark or Milk?"

_Dark._

"And who found me?"

_Ianto Jones_.

"Password?"

"I've not worked there in… years," Ianto says. "Would they know that you brought me back?"

"I'm not sure," Ortega answers. "However, bear in mind that the exchange of information between Torchwood and Caput-sihil is quite common."

"You don't think they'd do this just to mess with my head?"

"There's one way to find out," Ortega says. She glances at her creation, and then at the keyboard.

"What do I have to lose?" Ianto asks. "It's not like I'm a real person anyway. I have no property, no money, no job. I don't even have a name. I could call myself Montgomery Clift, if I so desired."

"You have your health," Ortega notes.

Ianto types in his old password while holding his breath. He exhales as he presses enter. Suddenly, the pteranodon flies off-screen. A cartoon Ianto pops up from the bottom of the screen, and when Myfanwy reappears, she drops an animated Jack into his arms. A new message appears: "Everything will be all right."

However, the message doesn't fill Ianto with hope. It leaves him feeling unsettled. He tries to think back to the people who may have known about how he got hired at Torchwood Three. He told the rest of the team, but why would any of them place that particular message in the DNA files? Would Gwen have told the story to the new team members? That's the only way anyone else would have found out since the description of Jack falling into his arms was definitely not in the official report. Ianto stares at the screen, unable to speak.

Ortega cocks her head and makes that face that dogs do when they are confused. "That's it?"

Ianto stores the information on a card and takes it back into his room. He opens up his laptop and tries to contact Jack.

"We're sorry," the virtual receptionist tells him. "But Captain Harkness is in the middle of the lesson. We'll make sure that he contacts you as soon as possible."

"Shit," Ianto cries as he closes the connection.

There's really no reason he should contact Kika, but he doesn't want to pay a visit to Torchwood alone. He can't ask Bayil. The man is indebted to Caput-sihil. Plus, he has a family to worry about. Ianto can't drag him into this.

Ianto can't ask Ortega because he needs her on the outside in case something should happen. As much as she doesn't like him or the idea of him, Kika has been looking for a way inside.

"Ianto?" she says when she answers. "I thought I'd never hear from you again."

"Never mind that. I think I can get us into Torchwood," he tells her.

"How?"

"I used to work for Torchwood Cardiff… long ago."

Kika scoffs. "Long ago? Like when you were seven? You can't be more than --"

"I did. I can't explain the circumstances, but I did. I'm going there this afternoon, and I thought you might like to come along." Ianto winces, hating the way he just phrased that. He sounded like a boy asking a girl to accompany him to the zoo. He also hates videophones. He recovers and says, "The thing is… I don't know how to get there."

"There's a map in the directory," she informs him.

"Fine. Sorry to trouble you, then."

"Don't disconnect, yet," she says. "Look, um… I've got to wrap it up here. Are you at the tower?"

"Yes."

"Okay. It'll take me about thirty minutes to get there, but, yeah, I want to see you try to get in."

"Thirty minutes. Brilliant," Ianto says before he disconnects. He looks around the room. "Now, I've just got to put together a plan."

He puts on a suit, but without the tie since he can't close the top button on his dress shirt because of the brace around his neck. He sits at the laptop and looks up Torchwood Palenque. It's a small one-story building. The rest must be underground, Ianto muses. He tries to take this as an auspicious sign, but if his spirits haven't been bolstered by a cartoon Myfanwy telling him that everything will be all right… why is he kidding himself anyway?

His laptop rings. He answers it. "Jack?"

"Ianto? You okay?"

"Sort of. Long story. I'll explain more later, but Torchwood has mapped the genomes of your children and shared those files with Ortega."

Jack practically jumps out of his chair. "My children? What? How?"

"I'll explain that part later, but embedded in those files was a message -- one that I believe was written specifically for me. You see, there was this image on the bottom of every page… Jack?"

The Captain has stopped paying attention. His eyes are fixated on something off the screen, but breaks himself out of the spell long enough to tap a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator. "I'm sending you some information. When you get it, I'd like you to pass it on to Kika."

"What's wrong?" Ianto asks. "What's occurring?"

Jack doesn't answer. Instead, he gets out of his chair and goes towards whatever he was looking at off-screen. Ianto hears Jack yell, but the sound becomes muffled. There are more noises, loud and angry, like furniture being tossed around in a struggle, but those stop after a few minutes. Ianto sits helplessly, waiting to hear something else. It occurs to him that he doesn't even know where Jack works.

Ianto laptop begins to download a series of documents. The first file appears to be full of medical information, and the other files are a mix of memorandums, photographs and databases all belonging to people he doesn't know. Then, he starts receiving Torchwood documents.

After an eternity, Jack gasps. He appears on the screen again, struggling to get back into the chair. "Did you get it?"

"Yes… I think," Ianto answers.

"Save it; make a back-up; and send it to Kika. I'm coming there as soon as I can."

"Captain, you're not going anywhere until you see a medic," a male voice on the videophone says. The connection is cut off.

Ianto follows Jack's instructions. He realizes that if he has a recording of Jack's vital signs, then someone else in the building might have it as well. He goes into Ortega's lab. She's sitting at her own computer.

"Ms. Cavendish did it," Ortega says. She's reading Jack's vitals. "It's an energy that I've never seen."

While she gets up to look through her cabinets, Ianto sits at her desk. Ortega gets another message saying, "I thought you'd like to observe the event."

Ianto opens the attachment, and the CCTV footage of Jack's murder comes on the screen. Jack was killed by the smoke monster that invaded the bar in the low-tech district. It entered Jack's body through his mouth and nose, choking him. It cradled Jack until he woke up. Then, it slinked away through the vent before anyone else arrived. That's when a soldier entered the room and jabbed a needle into Jack's arm before closing the connection.

"I got it!" Ortega shouts. She holds up some sort of dart. "We use these to take blood samples from new species of animals. One chamber holds sedative, but I can replace it with a poison. The other chamber draws in the blood, but it's remote controlled so I can draw the blood when the Captain wakes up."

She smiles, almost proud of herself, until she sees Ianto's face. "He'll suffer," he tells her. "And that will hurt me."

She wraps her fist around the dart and clutches it to her chest. "Oh," she whispers. She understands.

Two guards enter the lab, each pointing his gun at Ianto. "You're coming with us," one shouts.

"But why?" Ortega says, pushing Ianto behind her.

"Cavendish's orders."

"But he's mine," the doctor insists. "He's still mine."

The guard yanks her aside, which sends her in a raging, screaming fit. As Ianto is taken into the lift, he watches her struggle against the guard who is trying his best to pin her down. She bites the man, who is twice her size, and runs after Ianto, only to be restrained by two other staff members. The last thing that Ianto sees as the doors close is Cameron administering a sedative.

~~o0o~~

Ianto is taken to a Plexiglas cell about the size of the ones where they used to keep the Weevils back at the hub. At least it has a toilet and sink. And it's spotless with the sterile scent of antiseptic. It's not even a proper prison. It's a clean room, but the security, like in every other room in the tower, is second to none.

Mona faces him on the other side of the glass. "I was hoping that it wouldn't have to come to this. I sincerely wished the two of you would have signed the contracts."

"What are you playing at?" Ianto asks. "Where's Jack?"

"He'll be with you shortly," she says. She leans on the shiny steel wall behind her. "You'll thank me for all of this in the end."

"When hell freezes over, you bitch."

"No need for that language." She sighs, and with an amused smile, she says, "If only I could tell you, the whole process would be much easier. You think that this is all about blind ambition and about empire building."

"What else is it about?"

"I am trying my best to preserve something. I'm saving our world. Only I've never been in this sort of situation before, and the experts at Torchwood said to tell you as little as possible."

"They are involved?"

"I rather enjoy interagency collaboration."

The door swings wide open, and Jack is dragged to the front of Ianto's cell.

Jack struggles against the guards' hold as he yells at Mona, "If you hurt him, I swear I will rip your heart out with my bare hands. I will tear this place down piece by piece if I have to."

"No you won't, Captain," Mona says calmly. "This city depends heavily on Caput-sihil, and you are without an army. You are without any sort of clout whatsoever. I hold all the power in this situation.

"As for Mr. Jones, whether or not he comes into any harm depends entirely on you. Either he dies or you do. Now that dilemma requires very little thought, wouldn't you say?" She says to guard, "Put him in the cell."


	12. The Big Man and The King

Jack slides his hands around the cell walls, hoping to find some sort of panel, something that will lead him to the electrical wiring of the cell or take him into the ventilation systems, anything that will get him out of there.

"You find anything yet?" he asks.

"No," Ianto says from his own cell.

Jack tries to kick the sink loose one more time only to receive a nasty case of shin splits, just like last ten attempts. Limping, he checks to see if anything has moved. Nope. Of course, in all likelihood, there's no way out of this cell other than the Plexiglas door. What Ianto wouldn't give for a sonic screwdriver, or at the very least Jack's Vortex Manipulator, which has been confiscated. The guards must be laughing their asses off as they watch the pair of them on the CCTV.

"Take a break," Jack says. "You've been at this for hours. You should be resting."

"I can rest later," Ianto replies, "when I'm not being imprisoned."

"What about your neck?"

"What about my neck?"

"Isn't it killing you?"

Ianto takes off the neck brace, realizing that he hasn't noticed any pain or itching in the past hour. "No, it isn't."

"Let me see," Jack says.

Ianto sits on the cot and presses his back against the Plexiglas wall that separates him from his lover. Jack leans on the glass and takes a look. "It's a bit red, but there's not even a scar left," the older man says.

They both look at the glowing red light coming from the device that's been tucked into the padding of the neck brace. Ianto tears at the cloth with his teeth and frees the device from the neck brace. He holds it up to the security console, but nothing happens. He presses a few buttons and tries again. It's just a modified version of Ortega's healing laser. When he fails at opening the door, he considers banging it against the wall to take it apart and build something else, like a remote control. Then again, he's not Tosh.

"I do have a headache," Ianto admits.

"Then, take a break."

"It's been a while since we've seen a guard," Ianto says. "What's taking so long?"

"They're probably looking over the data, trying to work out the next step in their experiment."

"Perhaps Ortega's holding out, unless she's being held captive, too," Ianto says. "I wonder what happened to Kika."

"There must have been something useful in those documents that she can make public. Right now, she's our best hope."

"I hope she didn't run into any trouble."

"Yep," Jack says as he stretches himself out on the cot, tucking his arms under his head.

It's too quiet. Ianto can hear the soft hum of the air being pumped into the room.

"All I wanted was to spend a lifetime with you," Jack murmurs. "I bring you back, and all you get is --"

"You saying that you love me," Ianto says, interrupting Jack before he can get into a self-pitying rant. He lies next to Jack in a similar position. "A perfect weekend in a cabin by a coffee farm. Waking up with you beside me day after day. Life has been good. Although…"

"What?"

"If we are going to be lab rats, they could have at least placed us in the same cage."

Jack chuckles in spite of himself. With his finger, he traces the outline of Ianto's body on the Plexiglas. The young man swears that he's beginning to feel a bit ticklish under this odd caress.

"I was wondering…" Ianto says.

"Yes?"

"On my last day on Earth, did we have sex?"

"Ianto, the world was ending."

"The world's always ending."

"There wasn't time, and being in that warehouse didn't give us a whole lot of privacy. Rhys was always around."

"I see," Ianto replies, more than a tad disappointed.

"Cooking beans," Jack adds.

"Beans?"

"Yes, beans."

Ianto frowns. Jack might have well told him that he died wearing a day-glo shirt. "I let beans stand in the way of my last shag?"

"Yeah."

"And you nor I told Rhys that the beans could wait?"

"No."

Ianto knocks on the glass. When he has Jack's attention, he asks, "When you took the imprint, are you sure that it didn't cause brain damage?"

They share a smile. However, the initial humor fades away, and the smile becomes a painful one, the one they use when they are trying to put on a brave face in troubled times, only it feels like a Band-aid on a gaping wound. Ianto aches for Jack's touch so he can feel safe again.

Jack rolls out of the cot and paces around the room, staring at the vent in the ceiling as though his anger could melt the grate. He kicks the sink once more before yelling, "This can't be Gwen's legacy. This can't be the Torchwood that Owen and Tosh died for. This -- what they're doing -- is sending Torchwood back to where I started from, back to the days when humanity didn't matter. This is Emily Holroyd's Torchwood. This is Alice Guppy's Torchwood. This is not the Torchwood that I tried to build."

"I know."

"Dammit!" Jack sits on the cot, holding his head in his hands. If only Ianto could touch him.

"But I had to leave," Jack says. "I couldn't think straight. I was in no shape to be in command. It was --"

Jack is interrupted by the sound of beeping from the main door.

A soldier enters the hallway and faces the men. He tugs at his collar, shamefacedly, and says, "I've come to let you out."

The two men exchange glances. Jack asks, "So they're ready to begin."

"No," the soldier says. "I'm here to release you."

Jack scoffs. "This is some sort of trick, isn't it? Try and make it look like an escape so my death appears to be ethical."

"No trick. Torchwood has ordered your release. I would have been here sooner except we've been in lockdown for the past couple of hours," the soldier insists as he punches in the code to open the door.

Both doors open, and Jack flies out of his cell, pinning the soldier against the wall and getting in a few solid punches. Jack takes the gun and presses it against the soldier's temple. "Looks like you're going to be our ticket out of here," Jack says. "Ianto, there's another weapon tucked in his boot. Get it."

There's a knife in there. Ianto also liberates the soldier of his can of what he assumes is pepper spray and cuffs the soldiers hands together. With their hostage in tow, the men get into the lift.

"I'm telling you," the soldier says, "you don't need to do this."

"We'll let you go as soon as we can," Ianto promises.

"But only if you've been a good boy, yeah?" Jack says, pressing the gun into the man's side. "Until then, you do as we say."

"He's not really going to shoot me, is he?" the soldier asks.

"Listen to the Captain, and everything will be fine," Ianto says.

The lift doors open into an empty hallway, which immediately strikes Ianto as odd since there are usually staff members, doctors, clinical trial patients milling about the building during business hours. It can't be that late, can it? It's also eerily quiet, when they should be able to hear some activity coming from the lobby.

Just as they round the corner to reach the door to the employee car park, they run into two armed guards.

"Tell them to stand down," Jack growls. He pushes the soldier to Ianto, who points the knife at the man's throat. The adrenaline courses through Ianto's veins. He'd forgotten how this felt -- how exhilarating and frightening, too.

"It's okay. It's okay!" the hostage yells. He turns to Jack and says, "You really should stop now. There's no need to do this. Mona Cavendish has been arrested. You are free to go on your own accord."

"Sorry," Jack says. "I'm just not in a trusting mood after being attacked and imprisoned." He access the car park's CCTV. There are four guards stationed to perform security checks as the cars move in and out, but other than that, it's clear. All they would have to do is find the soldier's car and hide while the guards do a check. But of course, Jack will probably speed past the guards in a dramatic fashion, hopefully after he's left the hostage behind.

Jack and Ianto nod at each other in a moment worthy of Butch and Sundance before shoving the door open and pushing the hostage out first.

"Excuse me!" a female yells. "Excuse me!" She must have been hiding in a blind spot since they didn't see her on the monitor a few seconds ago. Ianto immediately recognizes her face. He's seen her every night before he goes to sleep. She's Keiko Ayim, one of Palenque's fiercest, most trusted investigative reporters, and apparently, she has serious ninja skills if she got herself and her cameraman past security.

She completely ignores the gun and handcuffs to ask, "Who is this you're arresting, and is he connected to Mona Cavendish's downfall?"

"What?" Jack says.

"I hate it when they play dumb," Miss Ayim says to her camera person.

"Just tell us what you know," Jack replies.

"Ms. Cavendish was taken into custody earlier today after the Renaissance Corporation, Caput-sihil's parent company, launched an investigation into her shady business practices." She motions her camera person to get a shot of the handcuffs. "Now, you tell me what you know. Is he in on it, or if he's not, why the hell is he cuffed?"

"Told you so," the hostage says.

"No comment," Ianto mumbles as he pulls the soldier back inside.

"We are so sorry," Jack says, releasing the soldier from the handcuffs.

"You pack one mean punch," the soldier says.

"Sorry, but you have to understand after the day we've had…" Jack explains.

"I could sue."

Ianto hands back the knife. "It was merely a misunderstanding, but to show you that we are men of good will, I could acquire a bottle of quality pain killers to relieve your aches."

"Thanks, but I'll get them myself. Not in a very trusting mood right now," he mutters as he walks away.

"Jones," one of the guards says. "Dr. Ortega's asked to see you."

~~o0o~~

Up on the 52nd floor, a woman carries a box labeled with a Torchwood logo into Ortega's lab. She blows a bubble with her chewing gum while a young man whispers in her ear. They both laugh at their private joke.

A short, thin, green-skinned alien dressed in a turtleneck to cover his extra-long neck walks up to Jack. He salutes and says, "We've rounded up all of the tissue samples and are ready to destroy them. Kalinda is working on deleting all unnecessary files from Dr. Ortega's computer…"

"Manu. Oi, Manu," a woman says. She has black and sliver freckles framing her face, but other than that appears very human. "The Big Man is upstairs. This is the _Captain._"

Manu covers his mouth with a webbed hand. "Holy shit! Fuck."

"Sorry," the woman says. Her accent is Welsh. "His vision is not very good in bright light. He sometimes gets a little mixed up. Manu, put on your glasses."

"You just kinda remind me of someone?" the green operative says, blushing teal from embarrassment. The woman pulls him into the employee lounge.

Jack and Ianto move into the procedure room where Ortega is waiting for them. She waves at them. Ianto waves back before they sink back into the structure she needs.

While she sets up her scanner, Jack asks, "What are Torchwood agents doing here?"

"It's Torchwood New Cardiff," Ortega explains. "They've come to clean up the mess that Torchwood Palenque made. Their words, not mine."

Jack peeks into the doctor's lab, his jaw slacked, his eyes full of disbelief.

She tilts the monitor so that Ianto can see. "You are healed," she says. "Although I advise you not to exercise vigorously for another day."

"Yes, doctor. And thank you," Ianto replies.

"The whole project wasn't a complete bust. At least I found this," Ortega says as she pats her laser. "Still needs work though. I should find a setting that doesn't leave the welts."

"That would be nice…For your other patients, that is."

"I'll do that when I get back," she says as she tidies up her area.

"Are you going somewhere?" Ianto asks.

"I'm going on a retreat. It's been a long time coming, but I think I need to figure out some things in my head." She sounds incredibly nervous about it, but determined to see this trip through. "I've never been well. All my life… I've never been well. I think… this trip… it'll be good."

"I hope so," Ianto says.

"Thank you." Her voice breaks as she says the words. She wipes away a tear with the cuff of her lab coat. "You used to frighten me. Just before you woke, I used to have horrible nightmares about the man you'd become. It was easier when you were in jars, waiting to be assembled. Awake, you have a personality, and I thought you might be loud and difficult. But you weren't… you aren't. You're very patient and organized. I cannot stress the importance of organization in a lab, but you know that, of course. And you also let me be who I am. What I guess I'm wanting to say is I like you very much, and I am proud to have made you."

"Thank you," Ianto replies.

The woman with the freckles pops her head into the room. "Dr. Ortega? We're ready if you are."

"Everything will be all right," Ianto tells his doctor.

"It will be," she replies. Her lips curl into something that resembles a grin. "The dinosaur said so."

Xochitl follows the woman out of the room.

Ianto turns to an operative -- the one with the gum -- and inquires, "Is she really going on a retreat?"

She glances up at him from Ortega's computer and nods. "The bosses thought it would be best. She'll spend some time with a psychiatrist, get some help."

"Bosses, is it?" Jack asks. "Not just the Big Man? And who exactly are your bosses?"

The operative grins. "Can't tell you, but you know how Torchwood is."

"Could you at least tell me who put the animation in the DNA files?" Ianto asks.

"One of the bosses."

A male operative sticks his head in the procedure room and says, "Kali, the King needs to speak to you." He taps an ear. "Over the comm."

"Speak of the devil," she says.

"And another thing," the male operative says. "Do you know if there are any more of those enzyme discs for the disintegrator?"

"I can show you," Ianto offers.

The male operative glances at Kali, who shrugs. He smiles awkwardly at Ianto and says, "Come on in. We've taken care of all the stem cells, but there's one more heart we have to destroy."

"May I?" Jack asks.

"Yeah," the Torchwood bloke says.

Jack takes his cloned heart out of its container and disconnects it from the wires. It beats steadily for a while, as if it has its own instinct for life, but without the electrical impulses, it sputters into its death. Jack removes the tubes from the heart and drains the blood into a bowl. He, then, picks up the heart and deposits it carefully into the disintegration machine. Ianto drops the enzyme disc in there as well. With a push of a button, the disc dissolves, and they watch the heart disappear in a puff of smoke. Ianto places his hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack covers Ianto's hand with his own.

Hand in hand, they walk to Ianto's room. The Torchwood operatives stare at them and whisper to each other, but the two men are too relieved that this whole mess is over with to care.

Once packed, Ianto takes one last look at the view from the window. It was hard not to fall in love with the city -- the way it smells of wet grass and earth, the way the buildings seem to breath along with the plants that adorn them, the way the people throw themselves into their lives with passion and zest. He could build a life here. They'll need new staff at Torchwood Palenque, someone organized to clean up the indiscretions of the last team. He wonders if he can get a meeting with the Bosses, the Big Man himself, in particular.

Across the street in his rooftop garden is the bald man who's currently armed with a pair of binoculars and is able to see Ianto, too. Proudly the man points at his brand new shed, which he has painted blue. Ianto waves back and gives the gardener a thumbs up sign.

Jack clears his throat. "They've confiscated your laptop as evidence."

Ianto was keeping a diary in there. "Can I get it back?"

"I can ask, but it looks like it's going to be a time-consuming hassle," Jack replies.

"Maybe it doesn't matter."

"Ready?" Jack says, eager to go.

"That's it?" Ianto asks. "We can go? No interviews? No debriefing?"

"Actually," Manu says. "There's a car waiting for you downstairs to take you to meet Miss Ramos for further instructions."

~~o0o~~

Kika waits for them at Imperial Park in the Holcones, also known as the military district. On any other day, it's a green plot of land with a fountain in the center and sidewalks laid out with simple white tiles honoring fallen heroes. On this day, there is plenty of activity. Lights are being strung on the trees. Street vendors are selling food. Musicians serenade the crowds with ballads. People are building shrines.

Ianto takes a close look at one of them. A family has built an altar out of cinderblocks and shiny piece of red, orange and gold fabric. At the center is a digital frame showing a slideshow of photographs, all of one Chikmo'ol man named Bernabé Tzun. There's a trophy for a sport that Ianto can't pronounce, an old grass-stained jersey, a stuffed bird with a long tail, a bottle of some sort of alcoholic drink. A small skeleton made of clay leans on the bottle. Flowers with small yellow petals and long golden stamens that shoot out of the center like fireworks have been strewn liberally over the fabric and onto the ground. A young woman sits cross-legged in front of the shrine. She raises a glass to toast the man. She wipes a tear from her eye.

Kika stands at the fountain watching old women toss flowers into the water. She's been crying, too.

"What's all this?" Ianto asks.

"It's Day of the Dead next week. They're getting an early jump on it this year, but when the day comes, this place will be packed. They come from all the districts in the city -- the Almehenod , the Ah-miatzil, Chembal Unicab, Los Artisanos, the Low-tech, Los Montes, as well as the Holcones -- to honor the people who have died in the past year. It's more of celebration of life; it's a chance to get together, tell stories, sing songs, remember with a smile and let go."

Shifting his weight from his right foot to his left, Jack crosses his arms in front of his chest. Ianto places his hand on the small of the immortal man's back.

Kika takes a deep breath. "I don't get it, Jack. All my life I've been told that people have to die. They have to give way to new generations with new ideas. It's how we progress as a species. With all that you've seen, certainly you understand this." The anger from the other evening is no longer in her voice. It quivers as she struggles to understand. "Why? Why did you bring him back?"

Jack doesn't speak. Instead, he fishes out a flower from the fountain, ignoring the question. He twirls the flower between his fingers.

It's Ianto who answers for him. "Have you ever been in so much pain that you'd do anything to make it stop?"

Jack and Kika look at him at the exact same time, both of them surprised. Jack's expression melts into a tender smile, glad to have someone who understands him.

"No," Kika whispers, as if she's realized something terrible about herself. She touches the water, creating a ripple, allowing the flowers to brush against her fingers, but she doesn't take one.

"Was it you who called in Torchwood New Cardiff?" Jack asks.

Kika shakes the water off her fingers and wipes them on her shirttail. "When I got the files you sent me, I wasn't sure what to do with them, but I figured if Ianto used to be in Torchwood Cardiff, then, he must have had some friends there. So I passed the documents on to them."

Ianto chuckles at her misunderstanding.

"Anyway," Kika says. "They came here -- pretty quickly, actually -- and took care of business."

"They said you have some instructions for us," Ianto says.

"Yeah," she replies as she pulls out a small object from her shoulder bag. "Here is the key to the cabin where you'll stay while you finish your physiotherapy. The car will take you there."

"I could use a few days at the cabin," Jack says.

"The thing is you have to stay there for security reasons."

"We're not the threat."

"I know that, and you're not in any trouble. If you really need to come into the city, send me a note. I'll make sure you have a security detail, okay?"

"Bloody Torchwood," Jack mutters. "What about my wrist strap?"

Kika pulls it out of her bag. Finally, a grin from the Captain as he secures it to his wrist.

"They also told me to give you this thing," she says, handing Jack a piece of white plastic. "It's for your vacation. They said you'd know what to do with it."

"Psychic credit card," Jack says. "For everywhere we want to be."

"Is that all?" Ianto asks.

"Yep," Kika replies. "That's it."

She straightens up and takes a few steps as if to go. However, she hesitates. She chuckles in disbelief. "They've offered me a seat on Caput-sihil's board of directors. Can you believe that?"

"Maybe it'll be your opportunity to do some good," Jack tells her.

"Yeah, we'll see," she says as she walks away.

~~o0o~~

They arrive at the cabin, and the chauffeur leaves as soon as he has dropped them off. Once inside, they realize that everything has been taken care of for them. There's food in the kitchen. Jack's things have been moved from his flat into the bedroom. Programmed into the videophone is a list of shops that will deliver anything they lack. On the surface, it's a nice gesture, but the whole thing is weird, very fucking weird.

And that's not the only piece of Jack's property that Torchwood has tampered with. The information that Jack downloaded from the smoke monster has been deleted from his Vortex Manipulator. They worry about any other changes Torchwood New Cardiff has made to the former Time Agent's beloved device. Jack performs a thorough system check, but that will take a day or so.

Jack flips on the telly while Ianto does a news search on the laptop in the living room. All of the reports confirm what they've been told. Caput-sihil and Torchwood Palenque are out; Renaissance Corporation and Torchwood New Cardiff are in. Public relations agents representing Renaissance work their magic, assuring the people that health services will not be interrupted. Doctors and nurses will still show up to their clinics and hospitals. There will be no drug shortages at any of the pharmacies. However, clinical trials and experimental treatments will be put on hold. Some transplants may have to be put on hold. The PR agents rattle on about how the economy will experience a temporary glitch, but with the people's hard work, it will bounce back stronger than ever. Yet, there's no word from Torchwood, even though the name is bandied about enough. Not even an official statement.

They cringe as they watch Keiko Ayim's report, fully expecting to get their fifteen minutes of fame, but not one frame of footage is used. Then again, she's got an exclusive interview with the head of Renaissance. Why report on the "arrest" of an lowly soldier? The executive weaves a tale about bribes, mishandling of funds, false arrests of grass-roots leaders, price gouging on certain procedures.

"The bribes have been an open secret among the people of Palenque," Ayim says. "Why are you bringing charges against Cavendish now?"

"We finally have hard evidence," the executive answers.

Yet, he does not say how he's obtained that proof. Nor does he say anything about the cloning of a thousand-year old dead man or the murder of an immortal one. Ianto has a feeling that his and Jack's involvement has been covered up. They're probably being kept in the cabin away from the press. Just as well.

It's late into the night when they finally hit the sheets; however, they find it hard to fall asleep. Ianto lies awake thinking about how the city is reeling while they have been sequestered in paradise.

~~o0o~~

When Ianto wakes up the next morning, he wonders if he and Jack have a serious problem. Rather than making love in their warm soft bed or sleeping in, they switch on the morning news, hungry for more information.

Last night, large crowds gathered in the low-tech to celebrate. They unfurled banners calling for the end of eugenic policies. They called Kika Ramos the hope in the fight against discrimination. Luckily, the demonstrations have been peaceful.

That was not the case in the Ah-miatzil, where the majority of the doctors and scientists live. In that district, would-be looters tried to break into the shops. The criminals were not organized at all; they're merely opportunists thinking that the police had their hands full with the media circus around the state buildings and the Caput-sihil tower.

Across the city, there were three separate raids against the warehouses in the dead of night. While two of them ended with arrests and little bloodshed, the last raid resulted in the loss of crates filled with bottles of pain killers and vials of synthetic seratonin. Eight guards were hospitalized, two in intensive care. The Army is expected to strengthen security in the weeks to come.

Jack calls into headquarters asking if they need his help. The Army declines.

Jack paces around the living room. "How did I get relegated to the sidelines? They know I have military training."

"They probably thought you were tired," Ianto reasons.

"With some of the top brass involved in this mess, they need the help. I wouldn't be surprised if they started getting the cadets involved -- _my_ cadets."

"If you trained them, I'm sure they'll do well."

Jack collapses into the chair and stares blankly at the ceiling. Ianto can empathize with his frustration. There's no doubt in Ianto's mind that they were the catalysts for Mona's downfall, and here he is -- finally healthy and sitting about twiddling his thumbs. If they were in Cardiff, they would have been in the thick of things had they'd been responsible for this sort of political upheaval. He feels useless.

By lunch time, many politicians try to distance themselves from Cavendish; however, documents reveal that some of them have been promised "life-extension" procedures in return for political favors, though it's not clear what those procedures are. A high-ranking officer, the one who sedated Jack, renounces his post. No word if he will be held accountable for his part in Jack's attack. Half the board of Caput-sihil resign.

Ianto stirs his tinned soup with his spoon. He muses that the day before when he stuck in that cell, he would have killed for nice piece of roasted venison with a leafy salad on the side, or perhaps those teardrop-shaped legumes he's grown to love. Today, there's food in the refrigerator to make a lovely meal, but neither he nor Jack could be arsed to do any cooking. Instead, they flip from one news channel to the next. There is definitely something wrong with them.

It takes Bayil to get them out of this stupor.

The physiotherapist notes the stubble on Ianto's face as well as the fact that both humans are still in robes. "You know it's a nice day out. Sun's out. Not a cloud in the sky. Fresh fruit in the trees."

"You okay?" Ianto asks. "Anything happen to you? Anyone say anything to you?"

"You mean about my contract with the Old Lady?"

Ianto nods.

Bayil tosses his jacket on a chair. He strolls into the kitchen and loads a few dishes in the washer. "I've been told not to talk about you -- not to the press, not to my friends, not to my family."

"Who asked you?" Jack says.

"Torchwood New Cardiff."

Jack jumps out of the chair. Grabbing Bayil's arm anxiously, he asks, "Who asks you?"

"Some woman -- Xaspertine, I think."

"That was her name?" Ianto says.

"No, that's her species," Jack replies. "The woman with the silver freckles."

"I think her name was something like Ms. Echo," Bayil says.

"Did you meet anyone who's called 'The Big Man?'" Jack asks.

"Or 'The King,'" Ianto adds.

Bayil shakes his head. "Nope. I only spoke to the woman."

Jack squeezes Bayil's arm harder. "Did you hear anyone talk about 'The Big Man' or 'The King?'"

"Nope. I only spoke about my contract with Mona Cavendish," Bayil replies in a low and steady voice. He pries Jack's hand from his arm while licking his sharp teeth, a warning to back off.

Jack takes the hint and takes a few steps back with a sheepish grin on his face. Ianto ventures that if they ever came to blows, the native man would get in some nasty cuts before Jack wore him out. Luckily, the physiotherapist is a civilized man, but who knows? Perhaps they'd enjoy sparring with each other.

"You have got to relax," Bayil purrs. "Why don't you join Ianto and me out on the deck? Get your body moving, get some fresh air."

Jack agrees, if only to show Bayil that he's not some obsessive, paranoid nutter. "I'll get dressed."

An hour later, Ianto wonders why he's never tried yoga before. Tosh had always wanted to get him to do it with her, but he kept finding excuses. Usually, it was Torchwood this, or Jack that, but now that he sees what he had been missing, he's kicking himself.

Not to be outdone by the clingy track suit that Bayil wears, Jack dons the gym shorts that Ianto is beginning to fetishize, and somewhere between cat pose and sun salutations, as he watches Jack stretch himself into a variety of poses and stick his lovely bum in the air repeatedly, Ianto lets go of the tension created by watching the news channels every waking moment of the day. As for the sexual tension between himself and Jack, that can only lead to good things, indeed.

Once he's done leading the session, Bayil claps his hands, saying, "I make this very good protein drink with pak-toon fruit. Why don't I whip up a batch?"

Jack's teeth graze Ianto's neck. His cock presses into Ianto's ass.

"I don't think we've any pak-toon," Ianto says.

"You could always go pick some," Jack says. "I'm sure you can find trees somewhere way over there."

Bayil freezes. He looks around as if there's something in the air, and he's searching for the source. It doesn't take him long to realize what he's smelling is Jack's distinct odor. "Or I could go buy some on the farm down the road along with the coffee my wife told me to pick up."

"Brilliant!" Ianto shouts. He hadn't intended to be so loud, but with Jack's fingers teasing the waistband of his trousers, the volume of his voice could not be controlled.

"See. This is what you should have been doing instead of sitting around and watching TV all morning," Bayil says.

"Thank you," Ianto moans. His hand is on Jack's thigh. How'd that get there?

"See ya," Bayil says.

"Yep," the both say, not bothering to wave or to see the physiotherapist out the door.

"Bed?" Ianto suggests.

Jack responds by capturing Ianto's mouth for a fierce kiss that makes the young man's knees almost buckle.

"Right," Ianto says in between gasps.

When they move into the bedroom, Ianto dumps his bag out on the bed, searching frantically for lube in the mess of clothes. Jack opens a drawer from the nightstand. He holds up a bottle. "Looks like Torchwood left us a housewarming present."

Inside the drawer is an assortment of lube sachets, vibrators, anal plugs, cock rings and some sort of tentacle sex toy that Ianto thinks he'd like to try later. "Who are these people? I don't know if I should be frightened or if I should send a thank you note."

Jack's solution is simple: "Fuck now. Worry later."

Ianto can't argue with that. Ignoring his own erection or perhaps feeding it, he presses Jack into the mattress and mouths the older man's cock through the fabric of those shorts.

"They're getting too tight. Take them off for the love of all things good in the world!" Jack shouts.

Ianto complies, but he removes them slowly, leaving a trail of kisses as the shorts travel down Jack's leg while the older man groans in frustration. Ianto's own dick begins to throb, demanding attention. He stands up and drops his trousers. When he removes his underwear, the engorged member springs out from underneath the fabric and points at Jack obscenely.

For a couple of seconds, Jack sits up, transfixed, which sort of makes Ianto feel like a god. Licking his lips, the older man recovers and tosses aside his shirt. "Lay down. I want to ride you."

Jack tenderly cups Ianto's head and lays it on a pillow before giving the young man a kiss on the forehead. His fingers stroke Ianto's cheek. His thumb ghosts over Ianto's lips. There's lust in the older man's eyes, of course, but there's love in them as well.

Ianto takes Jack's thumb in his mouth and begins to suck, just like how all of this started. In that London hotel room, he did it with absolute trust, and it landed him here, on another planet, in another time, in this room away from the problems of the world. He'd withstand the pain all over again for this moment. He'd walk through fire to be loved like this.

Jack removes his thumb and pumps the lube into his hand. He pushes one finger inside himself. Then, two. Three.

Ianto prepares his cock by touch alone, unable to tear his eyes away from Jack.

"Ready?" Jack asks.

Ianto can't speak. He communicates with a nod. Jack straddles Ianto's hips and lowers himself on Ianto's cock, savoring each inch. The young man makes a few muffled groans and gasps.

Jack begins to rock, slowly. Both men watch each other as if trying to memorize each other's faces until the friction becomes too much, and they become lost in their own oblivion. Just when it seems like it's too much, Ianto cums with a guttural cry, and Jack follows after a few more strokes.

Jack slides himself next to his lover, tossing a leg over Ianto's. With what must be the world's softest flannel, he cleans up the young man's stomach. Ianto glides his fingers across Jack's thigh.

"That was…" Ianto says.

"Yeah."

Jack drops the flannel on the floor, completely unconcerned about the mess. Torchwood will worry about that later.

He laughs.

"What?" Ianto asks.

"Thinking about our escape," Jack replies. "We could have made it."

"What about getting your Vortex Manipulator back?"

"We would have thought of something."

"You and me against the world, is it?"

"Wouldn't want anyone else by my side," Jack murmurs.

"Luckily we got to skip all of the action and go straight to all the good parts, yeah?"

"Yeah…" Jack answers. He frowns for a fraction of a second. He's not used to being out of the loop. He doesn't like it at all.

"Who calls himself The Big Man?" Jack says. "Sound like he's trying to compensate for something."

"Too right," Ianto replies. "And The King? What a bullshit code name."

"Completely bullshit," Jack says.

Of course, Ianto wonders if Jack's dying to know who those men are as much as he is, but he kisses Jack rather than press the subject.


	13. Day of The Dead

The rest of the day has been heaven -- sheer, unadulterated heaven. Yes, they missed the sunset, but Ianto had forgotten about the daily phenomenon, much like he had forgotten his own name as Jack's cock was hitting his prostrate. When the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Jack rambled on about the unholy lights of the Vegas Galaxy and the trouble they could get into once they got there. They kissed each other with no intention of taking things further because it felt good. They laughed when they hit each other's ticklish spots. Absolute heaven.

Ianto steps out of the bathroom. "Fuck," he whispers to himself. God Almighty, he stepped into the loo for five minutes. Would it kill the universe to give him an evening of peace? He wasn't asking for all his Christmases at once, just one evening without tears. "What now?"

"Nothing," Jack replies, tossing his wrist strap on the bed.

"Is that not working anymore?"

"No, it's fine."

"Then, what's wrong, Jack?"

"I told you. It's nothing."

Ianto raises an eyebrow. He thought they were past these games.

A vein in Jack's neck pops out, evidence of the anger pulsing through his body. He angrily stuffs his legs into a pair of trousers. "Torchwood tampered with _my_ Vortex manipulator."

"They did what?"

"They programmed space and time coordinates into it," he says, cramming his feet into his shoes. "It had to be them. Caput-sihil only cares about biology; they didn't give a damn about the tech."

Keeping his voice steady, Ianto asks, "When and where were they planning on sending us?"

Jack stands in front of the door, clutching his shirt at his side. His back is to the young man. "Cardiff. Six months after you died."

"Oh." Not much of an reply, but it's all that Ianto can muster.

"They scheduled us -- well, me -- to go back in an Earth month's time, just long enough for us to have a holiday."

"Perhaps they know something. Perhaps the Earth will need you six months after I died."

Jack turns around to face Ianto. "I could go back any time. One hundred years, one thousand. Doesn't matter because I am not going anywhere without you."

"What if I'm meant to go back with you? What if I want to go back?"

Jack opens his mouth as if to say something, but when words fail, he storms out of the room. Unable to move from his spot, the young man listens to backdoor creak open and slam shut. That's fine. They've had this conversation before, and Jack needs to blow off some steam.

On the other hand, this information demands to be investigated. Ianto clicks on the videophone and dials Kika's number.

"Yeah?" she says. A Caput-sihil logo hovers over her head. There are dark circles under her eyes, and she could stand to run a comb through her hair. Yet, he has to smile at her dedication and lack of vanity.

"I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time," Ianto says. "I suppose putting the city back together again is quite the Herculean effort."

"Herculean?" she asks, clearly not getting the reference.

"Doesn't matter."

"What do you need?" Her voice sounds strained, as if she could use a glass of water. Ianto feels slightly guilty about calling her, but he needs to ask.

"I'd like a meeting of the leaders of Torchwood New Cardiff."

She laughs, resting her cheek on her knuckles. "You're kidding, right?"

"Can you arrange it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because what you're asking for is impossible. Nobody speaks to them."

"Not even you?"

She frowns as she taps her stylus on the desk. She exhales and says, "Look. Their identities are a matter of security for a reason. You're just gonna have to trust me on this."

"They've tampered with Jack's property. They are trying to make decisions about our lives without consulting us."

"It's what Torchwood does. You should know that."

"May I ask why you trust them?"

"Because I have to," she answers, running her hand through her hair. In the process she covers up an eye.

"Because they placed you on the board of Caput-sihil. After dozens of rallies that have led nowhere, it must be nice to be in a position of power."

"That's not the reason I need to do as they ask in this matter."

"Please," Ianto says. "Please tell me something. What do you know?"

"I wish I could tell you," she insists.

He grips the side of the table and the muscles in his neck tense up. "Pardon?"

"I said I wish I could tell you," she repeats. "Things might be easier if I could."

Ianto's heart begins to beat just a bit faster. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Have a good evening." He disconnects the feed before Kika can say another word.

_I wish I could tell you. Things might be easier if I could._ That's what Mona said after she put him in the cell. Well, perhaps Mona didn't use those exact words, she said something remarkably similar. Torchwood had asked her to keep things secret, too.

But what did she know? She had told Ortega that he was supposed to be exceptional, but what did that mean? Christ, Mona seemed so certain that Ortega would find the secret to Jack's immortality. She bullied and pushed the doctor to get results.

What if she knew that he would some day become immortal?

"No. No." he says, as he runs his hands through his hair and paces around the room. It's wishful thinking or the stuff of his nightmares. This could all be in his head. Then again, the King… King Ianto -- that's what Tosh used to call him when he fussed about with the coffee. It started as a joke after he wrote a report about cults for Jack.

Bloody hell, if it's true…

He clicks on the videophone. He has a few plans to make.

~~o0o~~

Jack enters the house almost two hours later, his clothes soaked in sweat. Ianto wonders if he tried to climb a mountain so he could brood for want of a roof.

"I'm sorry I ran out like that," Jack says.

"Apology accepted."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Jack strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. "I'm going to shower."

Ianto hooks his finger into Jack's trousers and pulls the older man towards him. "Do you need me to scrub your back?"

Jack flashes his mega-watt grin. "I am too lucky to have you."

~~o0o~~

Ianto doesn't tell Jack of his plans until the next day, wanting to give the older man the benefit of a good night's sleep. Not that Jack really needed it. Still. It's always good to be rested if he's going to request -- make that demand -- a meeting with the Bosses, and if they can't get a meeting, then Torchwood has some explaining to do.

Fortunately, Jack doesn't object to paying the Torchwood headquarters a visit. He's also glad that Ianto had the good sense to call Dominguez for a ride into the city instead of notifying Kika of their intentions.

However, when Jack sees the box of containing the materials to build a Day of the Dead shrine, he hesitates before climbing in the van.

"Something wrong?" Roman asks.

"I didn't know that we were going to make a stop first," Jack says, shifting into his seat next to the eldest farmer.

"Come sit next to me," Yax says to Ianto. With a warm smile on her face, she drapes a garland of flowers around his neck.

"That's bad luck, Yaxie," Dominguez tells her.

"Luckily I'm not superstitious," she replies as she resumes stringing together the yellow marigolds.

"The flowers are for the dead," Roman explains. "In this case, Mateo."

Zoila pats Jack's shoulder. "You didn't know him. He passed on before you arrived. And Idris, don't eat those. They're for Matty."

"He's dead," the New Welshman squeals. He tosses the candy back into the box. "It's not like it matters. And for the record, it's kind of odd, throwing a party for the dead."

The farmers let out a collective groan.

"How many times do we have to explain this to you?" Dominguez says as he pulls out of the driveway. "It's not a party."

~~o0o~~

Upon arrival, Ianto understands why Idris would get that impression. The first thing that he hears when he steps out the van into the car park is the sound of laughter coming from a group of people carrying an alter with a cloud of sparkles hovering over it. Another group maneuvers a large, wooden replica of a starship through the crowd; the fantasy coffins from Ghana spring to Ianto's mind. Dominguez sings along with a group of musicians. Yet, instead of a funeral dirge, the song sounds as if someone tossed reggae and samba together in a blender, then sped it up.

"Matty used to love this song," Yax says before joining in at the chorus. The way some people are dancing reminds Ianto of a New Orleans jazz funeral.

A boy offers Jack a sugar skull decorated with an elaborate pattern. "I'm sorry for your loss," he says as though he's rehearsed this act of condolence.

Jack crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks up at the sky. Ianto accepts the skull while Zoila hands the boy a garland of flowers in exchange. "Thank you," she says. "I'm sorry as well."

The boy nods and walks to the next group.

"Just like the ones they had on Earth," Ianto says, holding the skull on the palm of his hand. "Back in Mexico."

"Yes, the tradition goes back that far," Zoila says. "Of course, back then, they had cemeteries to go to. Here, we make do with our park."

"So we'll see you around sunset?" Roman asks.

"Yeah," Jack says, pulling Ianto away from the crowd.

Zoila stops them before they can slip away and gives both of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Good luck."

"And you have a good day." The words automatically tumble out of Ianto's mouth. The atmosphere almost makes him forget that they are at a memorial, but luckily, Zoila is not upset or offended.

~~o0o~~

The Torchwood building is innocuous enough. It's made of the same burnt sienna stone like the rest of the city and of the same utilitarian design, and on the window, there's a box of glowing Venus Flytraps, which seem to suit an institution like Torchwood to a tee. Ianto finds them oddly pretty, and the aroma is pleasant, but when he reaches out to touch one, they snap at his finger. He wonders if these flowers are sentient. It wouldn't surprise him if they were. It wouldn't surprise him if they began to sing, "Feed me, Seymour." In fact, he's kind of disappointed when it doesn't happen.

Jack pauses to check his Vortex Manipulator before entering the building. "There's one person in the front office, but I am definitely picking up life forms down below. Ten, maybe twelve."

"Maybe twelve?"

"Hard to tell," Jack replies as he double checks his readings. "Two of them aren't giving up much in the way of body heat."

"Perhaps they're cold-blooded. That bloke Manu seemed like the type."

"Could be," Jack says. "Stay close. We may have to make a quick exit."

"Absolutely."

"Now, shall we?"

"After you."

Inside, there's a counter separating the receptionist's desk from the four chairs in the waiting area. Other than that, the room is empty. There's no indication that this building is in fact The Torchwood Institute, Palenque chapter, but there's nothing to suggest otherwise. There's not even the pretence of a tourist office.

The Xaspertine woman -- the one with the black and silver freckles -- stands up as soon as she sees them enter. She's dressed in suit that can be described as Men-In-Black chic with her hair pulled into a tight bun, but there's a gleam in her eyes, which suggests that underneath her tightly-wound appearance, she's the type of person who'd be a savage in bed. Yep, this is Torchwood.

"Hello, and how may I help you?" she asks.

"I have a complaint," Jack says, playing it cool and looking delicious doing it.

She lips curl in a naughty smile. "Do you?"

"I found some information on my wrist device that I didn't enter."

"Oh? Maybe your partner did," she coos.

"Did you?" Jack asks.

"I'm certain I did not," Ianto replies.

"There you go."

She stifles a laugh. "And you're certain that you didn't enter that information and forgot about it later."

"Positively certain. I believe that it was one of your people." He casually leans on the counter top, obviously enjoying this game he's playing with the receptionist. The old spark of adventure is back. "And you see, I don't like when other people play with my toys."

"Ah," she replies. She clicks a few buttons on her keyboard, and an LCD panel sitting on the counter lights up. "Take that clipboard, fill out the appropriate information, and we'll place your complaint on file."

"I don't do paperwork," Jack says.

"Technically, it's not paper," she points out.

"I'd like to speak to your boss."

"Or bosses," Ianto interjects, "if they are both available."

"And I'd like to sing like Joon Guerta, but I can't hit the high notes like she does."

"When I worked at Torchwood…" Ianto says.

"Way before your time," Jack adds with a smirk on his face.

Ianto continues. "I used to work the front office like you're doing now, and we used to have a red button that opened the secret doorway into the hub. It's amazing how many people overlooked it," Ianto says.

Jack walks along the length of the counter, running his finger over the top. "That's because they had no idea what to look for."

Jack spots something. He makes come hither gesture to Ianto. They take a gander at the red button on the side of the woman's desk. Moving in unison, they stand up straight and look at each other.

"It's heartwarming to know that some things don't change," Ianto says.

Jack reaches over to push it, but he can't get past the invisible force field that pushes him backwards and almost causes him to lose his balance.

"Some things do change," the woman says. "And the button is fingerprint activated."

Jack chuckles and holds out his arm for Ianto to grab onto. "Luckily, I've got another way in."

"Of course, I could just give you the key," she says with a kittenish smile. She opens a drawer and takes out a rift key. "I assume you know what this is? We even went back and dug up the old models, but it still should work."

"I'm a stitch in time, am I?" Ianto asks.

"Yes."

"And I'm meant to go back to Cardiff, back to my time?"

"Affirmative." She places the key into a bag as if it were a specialty item at an upscale boutique and disarms the force field so that she can hand the key to Ianto

"Why not tell me this from the very beginning?"

She winks at him. "This is how we get agents." Ianto thinks back to all the ways he and Jack toyed with potential agents and led them down the rabbit hole, his last victim being Dr. Rupesh Pantanjali. The bosses probably put this woman through the wringer as well before they hired her. Once again, karma rears its head. "Weren't you having fun just now?" she asks. "I was having fun."

Jack steps in front of Ianto as if trying to shield him from this person. There's a hint of panic in his voice. "What makes you think I'll do anything you say?"

"It's your duty, Captain," she says. "We've gone to a lot of trouble to ensure that Ianto Jones was cloned. When you arrived to this planet, we made sure that your DNA pinged on Ms. Cavendish's database. We provided her with a file that explained your condition, as well as the DNA files, to pique her interest, and we also made sure that she received Mr. Jones's body."

"So you set a trap for her?" Jack asks.

"I suppose we did," the woman replies. "At any rate, Cavendish is not very happy."

The operative clicks on a picture frame and shows Ianto the video of herself in action during Mona's interrogation.

-

"_Ms. Cavendish," she says on the video, "we made it very clear that Captain Harkness was not to be harmed during his stay in Palenque."_

"_My doctor needed to monitor him as he came back to life so that she could continue her research," Mona says._

"_But your doctor refused to do anything untoward, correct?"_

"_Yes, but that was not her call. And given the data, she would have done something with it."_

"_So you broke your contract."_

"_Do you have any idea how much Mr. Jones cost me in time and resources?" Mona asks, looking positively livid. _

"_That was it?" the operative says, doing nothing to conceal her outrage. "You were looking for a return in your investment? Never mind what Mr. Jones has done for the human race. Never mind that he was instrumental in Captain Harkness's return to Torchwood. Doing something for the greater good wasn't enough, was it?"_

"_I was doing something for the greater good," Mona insists. "Think of the lives I could have saved. But it doesn't matter to you, does it? You got what you wanted, even if you were dealing with someone who was corrupt to do it. In fact you were looking for someone with less than ethical standards, weren't you? Because nobody else has the balls to replicate a human being."_

-

The living, breathing operative standing behind the counter shuts off the frame. "It goes on and on, etcetera, etcetera. She regrets nothing, other than getting caught. Oddly enough, the Big Man kept hoping that Cavendish would make different choices."

"You let that woman kill me!" Jack shouts.

"The information that you collected from the databeast allowed us to keep Torchwood's name as well as yours out of the official arrest report, but I do hope you understand that Ianto's health was our priority. Furthermore, completing this mission wasn't exactly pleasant for us either. Imagine what it was like for us seeing our colleagues accept bribes from that woman, but we had to keep Cavendish in power long enough to make sure that Ianto lived again and that he would receive the treatments from Dr. Ortega."

"Including the gene therapy?" Jack asks.

"Yes," the operative says.

Ianto leans on the counter because his head is spinning and he's certain that his legs are going to turn into jell-o at any second. "Then, am I…?" The rest of his question cannot get out of his mouth because of the lump in his throat.

"Only if you go back."

"How?" Ianto asks.

"I don't know," she replies. "The bosses never told us what triggered the gene, and it's not on record."

"I'm certain they had their reasons for withholding that information," Ianto whispers, thinking about the burden he'll carry for the rest of his life.

She licks her lips, and for a brief moment, her façade breaks to reveal someone sympathetic. "By the way, we apologize for the pain. That could not be helped."

"Well, I reckon I wouldn't have gotten the therapy without it," Ianto says.

"And if it's any consolation, seeing you like that was good for Ortega," she tells him. "The good doctor got to fix the broken egg, and seeing that it could be done, she decided to fix herself."

Ianto nods. "Then, everything will be all right."

"How can you say that?" Jack asks.

"I've got a gut feeling," Ianto tells him. "Come on. Let's go. We've got our answers."

As they walk out of the building, the woman calls out, "My name is Echo." When the men turn around, she pushes the red button and sinks into the floor.

Outside, Ianto shades his eyes from the bright sun. "I say we pop into the shops. I could use a pair of sunglasses."

Angry and frightened, Jack shakes his head and barrels down the street. "I want to go back to the cabin."

"Now?"

The older man spins around and barks, "Yes…" When Ianto backs away from him, his expression softens. "I suppose I could get a rental car," Jack says. He raises his wrist. "Don't want to take too many trips with this thing."

"We should tell Dominguez we're arranging alternative transportation," Ianto says. "I wouldn't want him to worry."

Jack takes out his phone and begins to dial, but the young man places his hand over Jack's.

"Why don't you go take care of the rental while I go to the park and tell him in person?" Ianto asks.

"What? Why? I don't want to leave you by yourself."

"I won't be alone." Ianto nods in the direction of a tall, burly man and a small, pink-haired woman. Both operatives salute the Captain.

"That's the security detail Kika told us about?"

"I believe so."

Jack raises an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by this group of manipulative misfits that a future him supposedly assembled. "We were better when it came to tailing a suspect, weren't we?"

"Much."

The man scoffs. He looks around and when he's certain, no one is paying attention, he pushes a button on his PDA and disappears. A Chikmo'ol woman walking down the street stops and looks around briefly as though she's certain something has changed, but she isn't sure what it is. She shrugs and continues walking. The beefy agent reappears again.

"Show off," Jack says.

"You're just jealous," Ianto replies. "But I think I'll be safe with him, after all."

Jack holds onto the lapel of Ianto's suit, tenderly stroking the fabric. "Are you sure you want to go down there?"

"Yes. I'd like to pay my respects."

"I'll meet you at the carpark, then."

Jack begins to walk away, but Ianto grabs hold of the man's wrist. He pulls Jack into his arms and gives the older man a quick peck on the lips. "I'll see you later."

Jack gestures at the burly man and tells him, "You keep a close eye on him. If anything happens to him…"

"I'll be in a world of hurt," the Torchwood operative growls. "Believe me. I know."

As he crosses the street, the bodyguard relays their positions back to headquarters. Ianto smiles, knowing that the agent is doing this in order to avoid a paradox.

~~o0o~~

There are more people in the park than the last time was there, and it's about as gaudy as a funfair and just as informal. There is no stage for speeches, no schedule of events, no semblance of ceremony of any kind. This is not the idea of death to which he's grown accustomed, nor the sort of grief that Jack has been wrestling ever since Stephen died. Here the shrines stretch out for acres, but the air does not taste like ashes. It's sugary.

The mourners mingle amongst themselves and view the different shrines with interest. They exchange stories and explain the items on display, and in this way, they keep their loved ones alive.

-

"She absolutely loved to climb."

"Did she ever go into the caves?"

"All the time, especially Los Palacios."

"My Werner loved that place."

"Really? Maybe they spelunked next to each other."

-

"Sometimes when I sitting at home, watching the television, when the actors say something funny, I expect to hear Gustavo laugh."

"I know what that's like. Every evening I think I'll hear Qui-so's car pull in the driveway."

-

"They say time will heal everything, but… I hate it when I start crying like this."

"Don't worry about it. Here, have a tissue."

"Thanks. I must be a mess. What's your name again?"

-

"We placed so much faith in the treatment. I had so much hope. But we lost him anyway," a woman says between sobs. When Ianto turns in the direction of the speaker, he spots his nurse, Cameron, desperately trying to hold it together as she stands in front of a shrine. She sees him, too. Silently, she mouths the word, "No."

Ianto picks up the pace, hoping to get lost in the crowd. He moves past a gazebo where musicians take requests from the mourners, past the fountain in the center, past the wall of fallen soldiers, past the tent where they house the children's shrines until he hears a shrill voice call out, "Iantito!"

Zoila. The half-human, half-Chikmo'ol woman plucks him out of the mob and drags him over to the farmer's spot. Yax pauses from handing out coffee to wave at him. Idris salutes him. Dominguez nods. Roman nudges him and whispers, "Must be odd to be here. One of these shrines could have been yours."

A Chikmo'ol man accepts a cup of coffee from Yax. "If I could just have him back for five more minutes."

"Yeah," Ianto says to Roman.

"So what do think of all this?" the farmer asks as they sit at under a tree.

"It's… good."

"Must be overwhelming for an out-of-towner." Roman says, his eyes scanning the crowd. Perhaps, he's searching for Jack. He's too polite to ask about his whereabouts.

"To say the least."

"But you know why we do this?"

"Why?"

"We're a city whose economy is largely based on cheating death, but we need to be reminded of our inevitable end. And we can't run away from grief either, but at least nobody has to face their sorrow alone."

A group sits in between shrines to have a picnic. What would they say if Jack were to sit amongst them and tell them that he killed his own grandson for the whole of humanity? What words of comfort would they have for him, if they could find compassion in their hearts for him? For that matter, what words of comfort does Ianto have for Jack? Has anything that he's done or said so far made a difference?

"Some days are easier than others," the Chikmo'ol man tells Yax. "Some moments I can breathe. In others it feels like the ground will open up and swallow me whole."

Dominguez begins to sing a ballad for a pair of grown children who have lost their mother -- something slow, lyrical, with notes that pierce the listener's heart. Ianto removes his earpiece and is no longer able to understand the lyrics, but that's the point. He closes his eyes and imagines that the tenor is singing for Stephen or perhaps for the man who looks just like him -- the one who's lying in cold storage in the Caput-sihil basement.

The song ends, and he opens his eyes to clap for the blue-skinned man. Jack is there, clapping as well. The older man whispers his greetings to his friends before lying on the ground and laying his head on his lover's lap.

"I don't want you to suffer," Jack says.

"I want to go back," Ianto replies.

Jack tugs on Ianto's arm and holds the young man's hand to his chest over his heart. "You know that agent that was meant to follow me?"

"Yes? What about her?"

"I tried to get more information out of her, but she wouldn't give anything away. Finally, I asked her if the bosses are happy."

"What did she say?"

"She said that it's been a rough year," Jack murmurs. "But yes, they are very happy."

Their fingers intertwine as Dominguez sings for Tosh, for Owen, for Lisa, for Suzie, for the real Captain Harkness, for Tommy Brockless, for Beth, for Grey… for the men and women who they have yet to meet.

When it's time to go, Jack kisses a toy football the size of golf ball and lays it at the base of the tree. Ianto knows that it's not the end of his grief -- there may never be an end -- but he hopes that Jack has moved on to a different stage.

~~o0o~~

A month later, Ianto finds himself running on a secluded beach. Jack grabs him by the waist and pulls him into the water. They wrestle each other as the waves crash against them. Ianto laughs even though he knows that he's going to get sand in some hard to reach places. Jack seizes him and kisses him like he was trying to drink up Ianto's joy.

The older man breaks the kiss, and for a moment, there's sadness in his eyes. They've been traveling for a month now, living like kings, shamelessly indulging themselves in luxuries of every kind. On the planet Enarta, during the 45th Century, they impulsively got married. (The chapel had a buffet. Why not?) They have squeezed every drop of life out of their holiday.

"Tomorrow we go home," Jack says.

"Yeah," Ianto replies.

Something is there. Something that will change everything for the two of them forever. It's one thing to be told that something will happen, but Ianto can feel it in his bones.


	14. Things Fall Into Place

Ianto paces around the garden, clenching and unclenching his hands and anxiously rubbing them together. They've been waiting there for what seems like an eternity, but it's only been twenty minutes since they've arrived, long enough for his stomach to have settled and for the headache from the time jump to have faded away. He fidgets with the rift key, but every time he tries to turn it, a recorded voice -- Echo's recorded voice -- tells him, "Not yet." He stuffs it back into his bag and sits on the porch step.

"What if they stopped somewhere?" he asks.

Jack sits next to him. "Where would they go?"

"I don't know. You say she got close to that Lois woman. Maybe they stopped 'round hers for a bit of tea and sympathy."

"It's pretty late for that, don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose that in her state, she should get some sleep," Ianto says. Gwen is pregnant. The sentence loops over and over in his mind. Gwen Cooper is expecting a child, and Jack had neglected to mention this until about five minutes ago. He looks up at the sky. Jack is up there somewhere running away, and Gwen has been left to run a dangerous organization while planning a future that she may never see fulfilled. His Jack has his eyes cast to the ground and is fiddling with the strap of his bag. Ianto supposes that it's hard to stay angry at Jack when the man looks homeless and sad, not to mention that he's seen how Jack reacts to children. Jack sees one of his biggest failures in each and every one of their innocent faces, and inside Gwen's womb is a tragedy waiting to happen.

Ianto places his hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack covers it with his own. That's when they hear the car make its approach.

A lump hangs in Ianto's throat as he pulls Jack to his feet. They hold hands as the car rolls into the driveway and comes to a complete stop. Rhys is out of the car first. His mouth gapes open in shock. Gwen struggles to get out, fighting with the strap of her seatbelt, and Ianto is the only one with his wits about him to help her out.

She stands in front of him, her breathing labored, her hand moving from Ianto's wrist to cover her own mouth.

She looks at Jack and asks, "Is it? Is it?"

"Sort of," Ianto replies.

She hugs Ianto, holding him close, sobbing into his suit. He kisses the top of her head, inhaling the coconut scented shampoo she uses. It's good to be home.

~~o0o~~

"So you don't remember any of it?" Gwen asks after they told her what happened. "The chanting children? The hub explosion?… Dying?"

"I made the memory imprint before all that occurred," Jack replies.

"It's like it happened to someone else," Ianto says with a shrug.

"Is this the new Torchwood retirement policy, eh?" Rhys asks.

Jack and Ianto glance at each other. Both of them are too keenly aware of Rhys's optimism.

Jack replies, "Unfortunately, I don't think the new board of Caput-sihil will be too keen on making another replicant."

"It wasn't an easy process, believe me," Ianto adds.

"But you're back, now?" Gwen asks. "For good."

"Yes," Ianto says warmly.

"Yeah," Jack says, staring at his tea.

Gwen bites her bottom lip. She's not completely convinced by Jack's response.

"We should go," Jack says. "Find a hotel somewhere."

"Nonsense," Gwen says. "The couch pulls out. You can stay here."

"We don't want to be a bother," the older man replies.

Gwen reaches out for Jack's hand, but she takes Ianto's instead. "Please. I have Ianto back. Let me keep him where I can watch over him." She pauses and adds, her voice strained, "Both of you, stay."

"I'll look for a new flat as soon as I'm declared alive again," Ianto promises. "However, I will need an advance on my salary if there's an opening, that is."

"Of course, there is, but really, stay as long as you need," Gwen tells him. She squeezes his hand and stares into his eyes. Once certain she's not dreaming, she giggles like a giddy child on Christmas morning.

~~o0o~~

Gwen calls Rhiannon over for tea the next day, and the mother of two shows up at the house in her brother's Audi.

Ianto sits in the kitchen waiting for Gwen to break the news.

"I brought you this rolling walker that used to belong to Mica," Rhiannon says. He can hear her struggle to get it through the door. "Now I know it's a bit early to think about your baby walking, but when the little darlin' gets to that age, you're not going to have your head on straight to go out and buy one yourself."

"Thank you," Gwen says. "Just leave it over there, please."

"Has he been kicking up a storm?"

"Yes."

"Ah, David, I remember… it used to feel that he was stomping in there, just throwing terrible fits, wanting to get out of there. Still. Now's the calm before the storm."

"Rhiannon."

"What's going on?" his sister asks. The fear in her voice is palpable. "There's not a new threat I should worry about."

"No, no, no. It's good news." Gwen pauses. She probably has her finger over her lips as she thinks of what she's going to say next.

"In our line of work," Gwen says. "We learn to expect the unexpected… I lost Rhys once. I saw him dead… in the hub, but the Rift brought him back, you see. Sometimes -- now, it doesn't happen all the time -- people come back." She takes a deep breath. "This time it's Ianto."

He doesn't hear anything for a while except for the ticking clock.

Suddenly, Rhiannon is yelling, "No. Don't even kid around about that. You lot have already told me some truly unbelievable things, but don't you ever say something like that to me."

"It's true," Ianto says as he enters the room. He looks at his sister. She's lost a bit of weight on her face. Her taste in clothing is still as terrible as ever, but she is absolutely beautiful even though she's shaking.

"But how?"

"Time travel. Cloning."

Rhiannon rushes and yanks him into her arms, the force of which creates a sharp twinge in his shoulder. "It's been six bleeding months!"

"We couldn't come sooner without risking a paradox," he replies, trying to shift his feet around so that he doesn't lose his balance.

She steps back and frowns. "A what?"

"It's a time travel thing," Ianto says.

"You've not been undercover or anything of the sort, have you? Oh, my God! Johnny and the kids think you're dead. What am I supposed to tell them?" Rhi asks.

"You can tell them whatever you'd like," Gwen says. "Tell them Uncle Ianto had to fake his death to save the world."

"David's already making up stories about him, telling his friends what a brave man his uncle was."

"Is he?" Ianto asks.

"The bright side is he's putting more effort into school work now. He wants to be someone like you." Rhiannon dabs her eyes with a tissue. She appears simultaneously proud of and troubled by the little boy's aspirations.

Ianto replies, "Plenty of time for him to make up his mind."

"Yeah," Rhi says.

"Ever have coffee from another planet?" Ianto asks.

"Are you shitting me?" his sister asks, and they both laugh. It's been ages since Ianto's heard that sound, and it makes his eyes misty.

~~o0o~~

"So how'd it go with Rhiannon?" Jack asks. They're at Gwen's home in the nursery, putting together the crib for the baby.

Ianto searches for part F. "Weird. Awkward. Absolutely wonderful."

"Good." Jack reads over the instructions one more time and tosses aside several screws to find the right one.

"Don't lose them," Ianto says.

"I won't."

"You've also got that part upside down."

"No I don't."

"Check the instructions," Ianto insists.

Jack does. He flips the part right side up. "I have assembled a crib before."

The light in Jack's eyes dims for a moment, and he squeezes the screw in his hand as the weight of what he just said hits him. Ianto gently unfurls those fingers and kisses the raw skin where the screw was digging into Jack's palm.

"She was a beautiful baby," Jack says. Earlier in the day, he had learned that Alice had left the country. He decided that he would not attempt to contact her.

"Give her some time," Ianto tells him.

"I know."

"By the way," Ianto says, "thank you for getting my paperwork in order. It feels good to be officially alive once again."

"I say tomorrow you start looking for a flat."

"Me? What about you?"

"I've got work tomorrow. Besides, you're the one whose picky. I can sleep anywhere."

"We are both going into the hub tomorrow morning so that I can get situated," Ianto announces. "And then in the afternoon, rift willing, we are going to look for a new flat… together."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Yes, sir."

"Don't even think about it, Jack."

"It's your mind that's in the gutter, but if you want a bit of company, I'm always willing to get down and dirty."

"No. This is a child's sanctuary."

"The baby's not born yet," Jack says.

"Gwen and Rhys could come in at any moment," Ianto hisses.

"When you scream my name, they'll know not to enter."

"Jack, we're guests…" Ianto sighs. He closes his eyes when Jack's lips find that spot on his neck that makes him melt. "Jack, oh, fuck."

"That's the idea."

At the dinner table, Ianto can barely look his hosts in the eye.

"We finished putting together the crib," Jack says with a grin that makes a flashing neon sign seem modest.

Gwen clears her throat. "Thank you."

Rhys shuffles around the kitchen slowly, not daring to acknowledge what he must have heard. Overall, Ianto thinks that the man is taking it well -- that is until the two lovers begin to snicker.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" bellows the host.

Ianto coughs several times to cover his laughter, but Jack holds onto his sides and doubles over in a gleeful pain. To be fair, Rhys shouldn't have served beans.

~~o0o~~

Understandably, Lois and Johnson are speechless when Ianto walks into the hub. Derek, a tech who defected along with Johnson, makes a poor attempt at humor by saying, "It'll be nice to have a couple more cocks in the henhouse."

After Gwen gives them the short explanation of Ianto's return, Jack orders them back to work, making it clear that they are not to ask any further questions and thereby making the situation no less awkward. Ianto can feel three sets of eyes boring into the back of his skull as he and Jack discuss what will be needed for the Captain's new office. He can also hear them whisper. Well, it's not the first time he's been the subject of office gossip. On the bright side, at least they're not speculating about his love life -- no, that's out in the open -- and they're much more polite about it than the staff at Caput-sihil with the exception of Bayil.

Rather than allowing the whispers to consume his thoughts, Ianto focuses on Gwen's voice as she gives him the nickel tour of the new hub. To be honest, it's a little unsetting and more than disorienting to see Torchwood situated in an old police station. They almost appear legitimate. But since the repairs on the hub are still in progress, here they are. Gwen offers to take him to the Plass; however, Ianto isn't sure if he's ready to see the explosion site. It was hard enough to hear about it, but seeing it with his own eyes would be something visceral and fierce. No, there are requisition forms to fill out and a rift to monitor. He's far too busy moving forward to look back. He also might start weeping openly for his stupid leather bird, whom he loved as much as any pet he's had.

Johnson, Derek and Jack respond to a call from the police. Jack allows the ex-military leader to take the lead while Gwen keeps her comm open and watches them on the CCTV.

That leaves Ianto with Lois, and together they decide to go upstairs and sort through some of the items that survived the blast. Standing next to him in the lift, it's so obvious she's unnerved by his presence, but is doing her best to put on a brave face, bless her. She's like a child confronted with an unknown object lying in her garden, torn between wanting to touch it and wanting to run away. Ianto can only hope that she'll get over it soon, because he likes her and it might be nice to have a little sister for a change.

When the lift doors open, the first thing Ianto notices is the mural on the wall, and he sees his opportunity to break the ice. "That's a lovely dragon."

"Thank you," Lois says. "Gwen's idea. She said it wouldn't be Torchwood Cardiff without one. It's not finished, yet."

"Are you painting it?"

"Yes," she says proudly. "The thing is by the time it's done, we'll be ready to move back into our proper headquarters."

"But it is infinitely better than spray painting 'Torchwud wuz here' on the wall."

They walk around tables covered in pieces of tech, books, weapons. Some of the items have been tagged and grouped according to function. The other items remain unidentified and are sorted to the best of Gwen's knowledge. The display reminds Ianto of a roomful of evidence from a horrific crime, and earlier in the day, he shook the hand of the perpetrator of it all. Then again, who is he to judge when she has seen the error of her ways and has been so helpful to Gwen in her hour of need?

But poor Jack. He's riding with her in the SUV.

"I've been trying to identify as much as I can from the records, but the process has been slow-going to say the least," Lois says.

Ianto picks up the diary of Alice Guppy. There's one that belonged to Gerald Carter and another that belonged to Lucia Morretti. "How many of these made it?"

"Quite a few."

"Have you read any of them?"

"Not yet. I though I'd get around to it once things settle down."

"Things are always busy," he tells her as he hands her Guppy's diary.

He walks to another table and picks up a Mishue phaser with multi-species stun settings. He rips off the tag and moves it from the table for household items to the one for weapons.

"I read a few pages in yours," Lois admits. She looks adorable when embarrassed. "I didn't give it to Jack right away like I should have. I didn't think you were coming back."

"I didn't think so either."

They both share a smile, and Lois is relieved to be let off the hook so easily.

"I have something for Captain Harkness," she says. She opens a storage locker and digs out a cardboard box. She gingerly places it on a table. "Gwen says they were items from his desk that made it through the blast, but they're not amongst the other things because they're personal, and Gwen… well, she said she couldn't bear to look at them."

Ianto opens it up and finds three items inside. He's not certain why Gwen didn't just toss out the lamp. The shade is broken, and the exposed wires make him apprehensive about plugging it into any of the outlets. He runs his fingers over the tin box that holds Jack's memories. Perhaps there's a picture of Stephen and Alice inside, but he won't look. It's Jack's property, and he respects that. The last item is a complete surprise. Somehow, the coral survived the blast intact. It is, however, very dusty.

"Do we have an extra toothbrush lying about?" Ianto asks.

Half an hour later, he's in the bathroom with his hands submerged in suds, scrubbing the miracle coral when he should be up in the attic sorting through the archival items. He can't articulate why, but he feels the need to do this. Of course, the coral is a piece of his old life that is still with him. Back then, he was always worried that that he was going to break it. In fact, there was may a time when he set it aside on a shelf before he and Jack shagged over the desk. But it's more than just a memento. This scrubbing is a compulsion -- one that makes him feel good, but originating from a place he can't put his finger on.

Once the coral is clean, he pats it dry with a towel and places it back into the closet for safe keeping until Jack gets a desk again.

~~o0o~~

By the end of the week, after finding a new flat, Ianto Jones becomes the first Torchwood employee to remove his items from storage. Rhys, Johnny, Rhiannon, Martha and Tom are all on hand to help with the move. Gwen is there, too, to help unpack some of the smaller items since her condition isn't conducive to strenuous activity these days.

"I never would have thought I'd see the day," Gwen says as she sorts the utensils and places them into a drawer.

"What?" Ianto asks.

"You and Jack, living like normal people… together. So did you ask him or did he?"

Ianto shrugs. "It just seemed like the logical thing to do."

Gwen chuckles, disbelieving. "Really? You used to seem so fussy about being thought of as a couple."

"When a man decides to have me cloned, I take it as an indication that he's serious about the relationship," Ianto replies.

"Used to be a time when saying 'I love you' was all it took."

"Well, it's Jack…. We're married, you know."

"No!" she exclaims with delight.

Ianto adds, "Although I'm certain the UK will not accept the validity of the union, seeing that the marriage took place two-thousand years from now… and on a different planet."

"Well…I see, but you took the vows. I suggest you hold Jack to them," Gwen says. "And where did you go on your honeymoon?"

"We stayed on Enarta, in a winter lodge. The staff was comprised of elves. Lovely people, very attentive. Though being accustomed to communal living, they had a difficult time grasping the concept of privacy. Hard to get rid of. They would not take the hint. I suspect some even wanted to watch."

"Oh, God," Gwen says as she giggles. "But I'm certain that your stag night was even more eventful."

"We didn't have a stag night."

"No?"

"We didn't know that we were getting married until ten minutes before the ceremony. However, the night before was quite nice."

"Yeah? What'd you do?"

"We… hung out," Ianto says.

"Hung out, you say?"

"On a spaceship circling the Crab Nebula." Making love at zero gravity. But Ianto keeps that part of the story to himself. He unpacks his toaster in order to avoid meeting Gwen's eyes while he replays that scene in his head.

"So that's what the two of you did," Gwen says, "go off gallivanting across the universe while the rest of us were here stuck on Earth?"

Ianto knows that she meant to be teasing, but the comment still stings. "I am sorry that you had to go through that pain, and Jack understands that you're still angry with him."

Gwen snakes her hand around Ianto's waist and presses herself into his side. "I used to lie awake at nights, wondering why I wasn't enough for Jack, why he couldn't stay here and let me help him."

Ianto opens his mouth to reply, but Gwen puts a finger over it. She says, "Now I can tell myself that he was out there looking for you so he could bring you back to me."

Ianto tries to speak again, wanting to tell her his existence is merely a matter of circumstance. Had she died instead of him, Ortega would have cloned her, but she covers his mouth. He presses his lips together and nods. Then, he stoops so she can kiss him on the cheek. She clings to him as they listen to the furniture scraping along the floor and bumping against the walls, as well as the laughter coming from the other room. Jack is singing.

"I still love him," she confesses. "But not the way I used to."

~~o0o~~

In the next days, Torchwood Three settles on a candidate for the medic's position on the staff. Jack insists on using Torchwood's standard hiring methods before allowing Gwen to have a chat with Dr. Rita Choudry. Ianto tries to explain to Gwen that it was the best way to see what the doctor might do in action, but she still calls them bastards. In the end, Gwen is outnumbered with only Lois taking her side, and consequently, Dr. Choudry's persistence is tested to the point where most people would break. Fortunately, she passes, and Torchwood get a new medic.

One day, as Ianto shows Rita how to use the laser scalpel, he notices the writing at the base of the alien device. He picks it up and examines it only to discover that it's a Caput-sihil logo. He spends the rest of the day thinking about Xochitl Ortega. He misses her, Bayil, Roman, Zoila and the rest of them.

Wandering the aisles of Tesco's produce section, he laments that the fruit isn't as dazzling as it was in Palenque's market. He tosses a pomegranate in the bag, wishing it was a pak-tun.

~~o0o~~

After a few weeks, Ianto still doesn't feel any different than when he arrived. Every day that passes, he's tried to turn the key, but Echo's voice tells him that he still has more waiting to do. Every day that passes, he grows more restless, and Jack is getting antsy, especially after a Weevil chase went sour and Ianto was left with a gash that required twenty stitches. Jack responds by refusing to allow Ianto to take part in field work, which incurs the wrath of Johnson. Gwen tries to ease tensions between the two; however, she's inclined to side with Jack, not wanting to lose Ianto again either, largely in part because losing him once was hard enough, but also because she fears that Jack will leave if Ianto dies again.

Johnson and Jack storm out of the office with Gwen waddling behind them.

"Rita! Lois!" Jack shouts. "Firing range now!"

Fifteen minutes later, Gwen and Ianto watch as Jack brusquely poses the women as if they're department store mannequins and then stands by with his arms folded while they shoot.

"He's barely spoke more than two words to Rita outside of work," Gwen says.

"He doesn't want to get to know her," Ianto replies. "He doesn't want to care."

Gwen bites onto her thumb as she watches Lois miss her target. She walks away, muttering, "It's not like Jack at all."

After the training session, Ianto follows Jack into his office.

"Did you speak to the contractor about the new hub?" Jack asks.

"Yep," Ianto replies. He absentmindedly strokes the tendrils of the coral. "And they said they should be ready for us to move in next month."

"Good, but I will miss the office feel of this place," Jack says with a sly wink.

Ianto deliberately ignores the comment and proofreads a press release.

Jack tosses aside his pen and leans back in his chair. "Yes?"

"I'm not a child. I can handle myself out in the field."

"You heard?"

"Yes, and I'm insulted that the three of you would have the conversation without me. I had to eavesdrop on CCTV," Ianto mutters. "After all we've been through --"

"It's precisely because of all we've been though that I don't want you to get hurt."

"Torchwood sent me back for a purpose."

"Yeah, you're supposed to become immortal, but until I see evidence that you are, you are to stay in the hub."

Ianto ghosts his hand over the front of his shirt. Underneath is a bandage covering his stitches on a wound that has yet to heal. "We saw the future. We know I survive."

"We saw one possible future."

So the immortality argument isn't going to work. Ianto decides to try reason. "Neither of them have my experience, and yes, perhaps Rita can handle things. She's a black belt and adventure junkie, but Lois? She needs help out on the field."

"If she's having so much trouble, then maybe she should find a job elsewhere. We have you to cover admin."

"What I was trying to say is that it was helpful when she was shadowing me."

"She'll be fine with Johnson or with me."

"Jack, you're being unreasonable."

"And I've told you. I can't lose you again. Not you."

"Jack!" Derek says over the intercom. "Looks like we've got trouble in Roath."

"Gotta go," Jack says.

"I'll go with you."

"You've got that press release to send out as soon as possible before the internet rumors get any worse," Jack replies. "And Rita is still on probation so I suggest you hack into her computer to see what she's up to. I'd ask Gwen, but her hacking skills aren't as good as yours, and she'd also kill me if she knew that we were monitoring the staff."

"Jack, please!"

Ianto follows Jack down the hallway, but Gwen stops him from going any further than the monitoring station.

"Bastard!" Ianto yells.

~~o0o~~

Lois enters the hub first. Holding her hand over her mouth, she runs past Ianto and Gwen into the loo. Tears stream down her cheeks. Gwen goes after her.

"Is that the alien?" Ianto asks when Derek and Rita enter with the first body bag.

"Yep," Derek says. "We got him."

Ianto helps Johnson push a second gurney into the morgue. He unzips the other body bag and frowns. "Where's his head?"

Johnson sets a duffle bag on the table and takes a couple of deep breaths to gather her courage before opening it. It's not what's inside that upsets her; it's the reaction of the people in the room. Ianto almost lets out a sob, but he stifles it because even though Rita is used to blood and guts, she appears as though she might cry.

"It happened so fast," Rita says as she puts on her latex gloves. With her hands trembling and her breath shallow, she sets Jack's head where it should be and stands back.

They wait for a bit, but nothing seems to be happening.

Rita looks up at Ianto. "So how does this work?"

"I wish I knew," he replies.

The doctor grabs a suture kit.

"I'm not sure that's necessary," Johnson says. "When he exploded, he regrew himself from a partial skull and a shoulder."

Ianto glares at her. She clears her throat, and her posture stiffens. "If you'll excuse, I think I'm needed elsewhere."

Derek pats Ianto's shoulder and mouths the word 'sorry' as he follows Johnson out the door.

Rita puts the kit back into storage. "She's right. He doesn't need sutures," she says as she pulls out the laser scalpel. For a few minutes, she relaxes while stitching Jack's head back on using the reverse action of the cutting tool, completely focused on the tech and marveling on what it can do. There's even a smug smile on her face when she's done. However, when she stands back to appraise her work, she gasps.

Another five minutes pass. The doctor says, "Perhaps he's like a watched pot."

"One time it took four days," Gwen says as she enters the room. She looks at the body and strokes Jack's hair.

"How's Lois?" Ianto asks.

Gwen shrugs. "Oh, you know… trying to come to grips with all of this. I tried to send her home, but she won't leave until Jack's alive again."

"I still can't believe she killed it," Rita says of the dead alien. "Once Jack hit the floor, she must have fired six rounds, only two of them hit. Fortunately, one of them went right into that thing's head. She was on autopilot, she was."

Ianto grips his stomach just thinking about it.

Gwen places her hand on his arm and says, "How about we go upstairs, love. This may take a while."

He shakes his head. "I'd like to stay a bit longer."

"Okay. I can't make a you a coffee, but how about a cuppa?" Gwen offers.

"That would be lovely."

"Coming right up," Gwen says as she ushers Rita out of the room.

Ianto leans over the body and whispers, "Come on, you. We were in the middle of a serious conversation when you left. This is no way to get out of it." He unzips the bag further and takes out one of Jack's hand to hold onto.

It takes another five or ten minutes for Jack to come back to life. Ianto throws his arm over Jack's chest as the immortal man flails; he murmurs comforting words over and over until Jack's breathing slows down.

When the worst is over, Ianto gently kisses Jack's lips. "Welcome back, sir."

Jack smiles and pulls feebly on the younger man's tie. Ianto kisses his lover again, this time allowing Jack's tongue to enter his mouth.

"Fucking hell," Rita says. She must have slipped into the room during the ruckus.

"Haven't you ever seen two men snog before?" Jack asks. "Because you're gonna see a lot more of that if you keep working here."

Ianto goes in for another quick peck. He winks at Rita. "You may as well get used to it."

She looks like she could murder them both for kidding around like that, but eventually, she laughs.

~~o0o~~

Later that day, Lois leaves Jack's office with her eyes puffy and red from crying. She's sent home early, but at least she can smile at her colleagues.

Ianto knocks on Jack's door, "May I?"

"Of course," Jack replies.

"Gwen and Johnson have gone over the CCTV monitoring the area, and it appears that the alien was alone. Derek and I sifted through the alien's possessions, and we found a weapon and another device. Derek is scanning the tech. Rita is conducting the autopsy as we speak."

Jack nods. "Good."

"Yep."

"Lois did a good job today," Jack says.

"She was quite upset when she returned from the mission."

"It's her first kill. That's always the worst, even if the person is a vile piece of scum."

"Yep."

"She'll be okay."

"I hope so."

"She will," Jack insists.

Ianto sits down on the edge of the desk. "And you?"

"I'm fine, as always."

Ianto presses his lips together, not knowing how to begin to broach the subject, but he has to know. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"When the blade went through your neck, did you feel it?"

There's a hitch in Jack's breathing. He rests his chin on his knuckles. "Yes, I did."

Ianto touches his own neck, unable to imagine what that might be like. The blood drains from his face, and he begins to feel dizzy. "Shit."

Jack breaks out of his reverie and stands up. He faces Ianto and places his hands on the young man's hips. Without a sound, they press their foreheads together. Ianto holds on the other man's braces, and as they chase the demons out of their heads, they begin to breathe in unison. Once they are both a bit more relaxed, Jack kisses Ianto's forehead and leaves his office to check up on everyone else.

Ianto slowly stands up. He arranges the reports on Jack's desk in neat, little piles. He tosses a half eaten biscuit into the bin. He picks up a cup of tea. Lois didn't finish it, and it's half-full. (A year ago, he might have said half-empty.) With the cup in his hand, he takes a few steps towards the door, but something inside of him makes him pause. He turns around, and for a reason he cannot articulate, he pours the rest of the tea over the coral. Immediately, he takes out his handkerchief to clean up the run off, but he doesn't clean the coral. He just leaves it as it is, wet. It'll be sticky later. He shakes his head and takes the cup into the kitchenette.

~~o0o~~

It's late at night when Ianto finally gets home. He slips off his coat and puts it into the closet. He sets his keys into the bowl. He takes a deep breath and sighs. Home. This flat is his home.

Ianto creeps towards the bedroom and peeks inside. Jack is asleep in their bed.

Too wired to sleep, he pads to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Despite eating take out earlier in the evening, oddly enough, he's still quite hungry. Well, it had been a stressful day, and he missed lunch. Besides, those tomatoes look ripe and delicious.

He tries to pull out the cutting board as quietly as possible, but the pots rattle anyway. He cranes his neck towards the door and listens. No sounds from the bedroom. No footsteps. He exhales, sets the cutting board on the counter, and begins to fix his sandwich.

His mind wanders to how he spent the evening -- playing cards with Rita, Derek and Lois until it became painfully obvious that Lois is terrible at bluffing. They switched to Scrabble, and Miss Habiba gave them all a run for their money.

After putting away the games, Lois had asked, "So, which one of you lot is going to baby sit me tonight?"

They all looked away like guilty children.

"It's all right," Lois had said. "I could use the company."

"I'll stay," Derek offered. "Ianto's got a boyfriend, and Rita's got that cat."

"Yeah," Rita said. She tugged Ianto's arm. "I'll trade you." That made Lois laugh.

And it was nice to spend time with them, away from the bosses and from work. It's like they're becoming friends. Ianto hums quietly as he slices into the tomato.

However, next thing he knows, Jack barges into the kitchen; there's a bit of yelling; and Ianto's bleeding over the counter top, uttering the kind of language that would have made his mother wash his mouth out with soap.

Jack grabs a kitchen towel and wraps it around Ianto's finger. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." He hisses when he gets a better look at the wound.

"It's not so bad," Ianto says. "Just stings."

"I'll get the first aid kit," Jack says as he rushes off to the bathroom.

Ianto turns on the tap and runs his hand underneath to wash off some of the blood. Using the towel, he dabs at the wound, expecting it to start bleeding again. It doesn't. Ianto braces himself on the counter and watches the skin knit itself back together again.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"Got it!" Jack yells.

"I think I'm okay," Ianto replies.

"What?"

Ianto holds up the digit so Jack can see.

"Shit," Jack whispers.

Ianto quickly unbuttons his shirt and tears off the gauze covering his Weevil wound. The stitches are still in place, but the gash has healed.

"I guess this means I'm back on field work," Ianto says.

Jack runs his fingers over the spot where the wound should be. "Yeah."

"And another thing."

"Yeah?"

"I'd like you to pick up the dry cleaning every once in a while and do the hoovering every other week," Ianto replies.

Neither of them get any sleep that night. But Ianto does get that sandwich. He makes one for Jack, too.

~~o0o~~

Whatever is supposed to happen is beginning. Like any other morning, he tries to rift key. This time it tells him, "Not yet, but in the meantime, set things right." It also spouts out a list of time-space coordinates, just in case.

That day, ghosts begin to appear -- some human, some not. One apparition causes a multi-car pile up at a busy intersection. The driver who initiated the wreck claimed that a blue creature with webbed hands jumped out in front of the car, and then disappeared.

Gwen and Ianto visit a woman who walked to the A&E, claiming that she had a vision.

"What'd you see, love?" Gwen asks.

"Tall buildings in odd geometric shapes," the woman reports. "Spaceships in the skies. And people, humans. And others that didn't look very human at all. Some looked like insects, except they were wearing suits. Others looked human, except they were different, like with weird things on their faces. I swear I don't do drugs."

"Have you been getting enough sleep? Maybe you were dreaming," Ianto suggests.

The victim shakes her head. "I think what I saw was the future."

"Whatever you saw, you're safe now," Gwen assures her.

"Safe. That's the funny bit," she says. "Since the thing with the children happened, I've been so cynical about everything, and so angry with no trust in the government or anyone. I kept wondering what's going to become of us."

"I think a lot of people felt that way," Gwen says, "including me."

"Yeah," the woman whispers. "But what I saw wasn't a conflict zone. It wasn't depravity -- just people going about their business, living their lives." The joy is clearly written all over her face. "We just keep going, don't we?"

"I guess we do," Gwen replies.

Later, as they walk through the carpark to their vehicle, Ianto tells her, "I, too, saw evidence of humanity's resilience in Palenque. Their leaders were involved in a scandal that rocked every level of government. The citizens took a couple of days to adjust, and then they simply went on with their lives. As a species, we'll be fine."

Gwen nods and pats her belly. "But I do wonder what we'll have to sacrifice to make certain that future will come true."

The next day, a woman claiming to be from the year 3245 falls from the rift. She also says she's from New Cardiff. Jack escorts her home using the coordinates Echo left for him. When he returns to the hub, he says that Manu was there waiting for them.

The day after, Gwen gives birth.

"It's a girl!" Rhys shouts, brimming with pride.

"What are you naming her?" Jack asks.

"Hope," Rhys replies.

Jack grins and gives the man a hug. "It's a good name."

~~o0o~~

The week of ghost sightings and visions of the future proceeds without any sign of letting up. Ianto tries the key every chance he gets to no avail. In the meantime, he and Jack stay at the hub twenty-four-seven, monitoring the rift. They don't sleep, but they're not tired either.

Lois hands Jack the phone and tells him, "It's Gwen. She needs to speak to you."

"Can it wait? There may be a rift spike in another ten minutes."

"We can handle it, Captain," Johnson says. "And you could use a breather."

Jack nods at his colleague and takes the phone. As soon as the call's over, he taps Ianto's shoulder and says, "We gotta go. Gwen needs to talk to us."

~~o0o~~

The new mother is in tears when they arrive. Rhys clutches onto the baby monitor, beside himself with worry.

"It's not Hope, is it?" Jack asks.

"No, she's perfect," Gwen replies. "Absolutely perfect. I have a baby."

"Yes, you do," Jack says, not quite grasping her drift.

"And she's beautiful," Gwen continues. "And she's so helpless. She needs me."

"Well, I doubt that Hope can change her own nappies," Ianto quips.

Ignoring the comment, Gwen says, "And she's going to need someone to help her to learn how to walk, how to tie her shoelaces, how to ride a bicycle. She's going to grow up and she's going to want to know about dating boys."

"Or girls," Rhys points out.

"Or girls," Gwen squeaks. "I was changing her diaper earlier, and it dawned on me. Rhys and I are supposed to see her through these things. Except… I work for Torchwood. I may not be there for her when she needs me."

"No," Jack says. "Don't say that. We don't know that."

"Please, Jack. Don't," Gwen tells him. "I know what this job is, but I cannot make her an orphan. I cannot break her heart that way."

"If something happens to you," Ianto says. "we'll take you to Palenque. I'll beg Xochitl if I have to."

Gwen shakes her head. "I don't want to wake up in a strange place with whole chunks of time missing from my memory. I want to see my little girl grow. I can't do that and work for Torchwood. I'm sorry, but now that she's here, it's all so real."

"I understand," Jack replies. "Whatever you need to do…"

She grabs Jack's head with both hands and stares into his eyes. "Promise me, Jack," she pleads. "Promise me that you'll stay and fight for my little girl, for her future. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Me, too," Ianto whispers.

Gwen sobs into Jack's shoulder, hugging him tightly. She reaches out for Ianto and holds him, too.

On the ride back to the hub, Ianto says, "Maybe when Hope is older, she'll come back."

"Maybe she won't," Jack replies.

"She could always come back as a consultant of sorts."

"Who knows?" Jack says. "I just want her to be safe and happy."

"Hear, hear."

Lois is standing in the carpark when Jack's convertible pulls up, and the moment Ianto's shoes hit the pavement, she thrusts the rift key into Ianto's hand. It's glowing, which can only mean that it's time.

Anxious and excited, Ianto turns the key, and he's briefly blinded by a light that makes everything go white. Later, he finds out that he's the only one who saw it, just like he's the only one who tasted something like… raspberries in the air.

"It's done," Ianto announces.

"That's it?" Jack asks.

Ianto grins as the wave of time and space washes over him. "All of us -- not just Gwen -- we're exactly where we're meant to be."

~~o0o~~

FOUR YEARS LATER

Despite his deeply-ingrained belief that he is indeed immortal, Ianto has never actually tested the theory. It's an experiment that, if it fails, can only be tried once. Might as well make sure the death counts, right? Four years he's spent dodging bullets, relying on his wits, trying not to repeat past mistakes, avoiding unnecessary risks. And he's still standing, which is good.

Now is the moment of truth. Death is near. He feels it. He's trapped in locked cell and bleeding out from a wound in his stomach. Dear God, he's cold, and it hurts. Christ, it hurts.

Happy thoughts, he tells himself. He wants his last thought to be good ones, comforting ones in case Jack doesn't make it here on time. Hope's last birthday party -- not the kiddie party, but the one Gwen and Rhys threw for the adults, namely those who know that The Truth Is Out There. It had a pony theme. Gwennie in a green dress with baby Oliver on her hip. Martha snapping piccies of everything. Rhys fussing over the food. Jack twirling the little girl around to a Beatles song -- "From Me To You." After they've eaten cake, Jack had pink icing on his lips. Ianto licked the icing off. It was butter cream.

He grips onto a dirty rug on the floor. It's soaked in his blood. His body is at war with itself, one faction wants to repair the damage, the other saying "just give in, already." The second faction is taking over.

He thinks of Sunday dinners with Rhiannon when they get the chance. David and Mica soaking in all of Jack's stories, carefully edited for young ears. They're both doing well in school, making him a proud uncle. Johnny is Johnny, but Ianto likes him anyway. Him and Rhiannon sit at the table, having coffee, telling stupid stories about their youth.

His entire body spasms as he tries to breathe in. He's dying like a big, ugly dog.

The hub. It's sort of nice being underground again. Feels cosy. Just weird since it's all different. Not the same hub Owen and Tosh once roamed. But he likes his team. They are warriors, thoughtful warriors. Derek, Rita and Lois are his friends. Johnson's aloof, but she still cares. Jack loves the all.

There's a sound on the other side of the door, banging on the metal door. Ianto can't yell. Everything's fading.

Jack… His constant, his support, his partner in all things. The tomcat's stopped playing around. It's just them. Jack's always the last person to say goodnight, the first to say good morning. Kisses so warm. It aches to leave him.

Jack forces the door open. He yells, "No no no no no. Ianto, can you hear me?"

Barely.

Jack cradles Ianto's head in his lap.

Ianto blinks. He tries to hold on to Jack, but he's got no strength left. No choice but to give in. So he takes one last breath and then, drifts.

And there is no light at the end of the tunnel. None of his relatives are waiting for him to show him the way. There are no pearly gates. It's dark and quiet without any sensation, and he just floats. It's kinda peaceful, kinda soothing, kinda nice -- only kinda because there's no Jack. Without Jack, this could get boring.

But life curls its tendrils around him and drags him over a bed of razors and briars and glass. _Why so rough? Just tell me where to go, and I'll go peacefully. There's no need to do this. Don't you understand? I want to go back -- for him. I just want to be with him. _

There's a voice saying, "You can't leave me alone. Please. Please. Please, Ianto."

As if on cue, Ianto gasps in that first lungful of air as his limbs flail violently, all the while screaming like a madman. Suddenly, his head hits the pavement, and there's another voice yelling, too. Ianto stops his undignified racket and sits up to take in his surroundings. Johnson drops to her knees. Lois has her hands clamped over her mouth. Jack is sitting on the floor, trembling like a spooked rabbit and frozen in his spot. The young man's never seen him so frightened.

After coughing a couple of times to clear his throat, Ianto says, "Hi."

Tentatively, the older man crawls back to Ianto. Once his fear has subsided, Jack pulls Ianto close to his chest and starts to cry.

~~o0o~~

Jack tries to fuss over his partner when they get back to the hub, but Ianto won't have any of it… at least not until they get home, where the newly immortal man expects a full-body massage, a warm bath and chocolates, lots of chocolates. For now, he's okay (although he doesn't dismiss the possibility that he might go completely mental the next morning over breakfast).

And for now, he is busy planning for the future. In that spirit, Ianto types, proofreads and prints his latest diary entry. He tucks the sheet of paper behind the others and staples them all together. Then, he neatly folds and places these sheets into the time-sealed container to be opened in the year 3245. Might as well have the story written down on paper in case he forgets. He tucks the container in the safe.

"Lois, have you finished the animation I asked for?" Ianto asks.

"Yes, I sent it to you in an e-mail."

"Thank you."

"Any chance of you making coffee?" Lois asks. Despite his rank, brewing that most wonderful of elixirs remains Ianto's job.

"Absolutely."

"If you are making coffee anyway, I'd like one, too," says Johnson.

Derek holds up his hand, "And me."

Rita waves. "Don't forget me, king of all coffee."

Jack smiles. His cup is a given.

While the coffee brews, he opens the file Lois sent him, and to his delight, it looks exactly like the one he saw all those years ago -- well, to his best recollection. He sends her a reply, telling her it's perfect, and she'll be pleased for the rest of the day with the knowledge that her silly drawings will help kick-start the reformation of a far away city in the distant future. It will be her legacy. By the time the coffee is done, the file is where it should be, embedded in the DNA files of Jack's offspring, and Ianto is filled with a sense of completion. He places the coffee cups on the tray and begins his rounds.

His last stop is in Jack's office. The older man takes the first sip and closes his eyes, relishing the aroma and the flavor. It's the same expression he wears during arousal, and Ianto can't help feeling smug to be able to make Jack look that way.

Jack takes both of the mugs and sets them next to the coral on the desk. Gripping onto Ianto's hips, he rewards his man with a soft, languid kiss.

Ianto chuckles. "Yeah?"

Jack strokes the other man's face and murmurs, "I get to keep you."

Ianto nods. He swallows the lump in his throat to reply, "Always."

* * *

**Author's note: **This is the end... sort of. I'm tempted to add an epilogue. Thanks for reading so far.


	15. Epilogue

**A/N: **Never before have I been so obsessed with a piece of fic so I thank all of you for sticking with this crazy story. Thank you for leaving comments behind because they have been fuel to keep this going, especially this past week which has been stressful for both sides of my family. (My maternal grandfather was in the hospital, but is better now. And my paternal step-grandmother, who was an eccentric woman, passed away after a long illness.)

**A/N2: **For those of you who were wondering about the tea on the baby TARDIS. That was a reference to _Doctor Who _"Christmas Invasion," which was David Tennant's first episode as the Doctor -- you know, that scene where the tea gets spilled into the TARDIS, and then, lo and behold, the Doctor gets all better and saves the day. Yeah, I was probably stretching things with that bit. Anyhoo, back to your epilogue.

* * *

Of course, The Doctor wasn't too happy about the turn of events. To begin with, he thought Ianto was wrong, so very wrong. And then, add the existence of the baby TARDIS -- one that had been activated…

"I mean, really, who decides to sprinkle tea on their knick-knacks? Then, they get all…" the Doctor waggled his fingers about as he searched for the right work, "sticky and such."

"It just spoke to me," Ianto said.

"Mmm… right, of course," the Doctor muttered.

"Well, that's my story, and I am sticking to it."

"Right, right, you and your dodgy genetic enhancements." The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair as he paced around the Hub. "Well, at any rate, it decided you should keep on living since you fed it. If you had just left it alone…"

"I didn't realize tea would have this effect."

"Spilt tea on my TARDIS saved my life once," the Doctor mumbled. He became wistful for a few seconds.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

"Nothing."

"If there was someone like you out there…" Jack said. "Obviously someone who isn't homicidal like you-know-who, but a good friend and companion, wouldn't you be happy?"

"Ooooh, Jack. Ask yourself if you really want to go there," the Doctor warned. He sighed and crossed his arms while glaring at the pair of them. "Can't do anything now. Too much history has been affected. You're stuck like that."

Ianto was a more than a little frightened and also just the slightest bit glad to hear that, but he hid both emotions behind a neutral expression. "I see."

"But I can do something to stop the problem from growing worse."

With those words, the Doctor quickly disabled Jack's teleportation feature on his Vortex Manipulator. He, then, grabbed the baby TARDIS. "And I'm taking this with me for safe keeping. Trust me, it's for the best."

Ianto lunged for the Doctor, but Jack held him back. During the scuffle, the Doctor entered his blue box and disappeared.

"You just let him go!" Ianto yelled.

"We can't raise her," Jack said. "We're not Time Lords."

That was true, but Ianto still felt as though his heart has been ripped from his chest. He angrily stomped around the Hub, picking up trash (fucking Johnson and her bloody caramel wrappers and would it hurt Rita to carry her own coffee mug back to the kitchen) while Jack hid in his office waiting for the storm to pass. Once he did a full sweep of the hub's main room, Ianto rode up the lift to the newly rebuilt tourist office and went outside to toss the rubbish into the dumpster.

When he reentered, he stopped short. The tourist office was bigger on the inside, causing Ianto's heart to flip with an intense feeling of joy. He put in his comm and said, "Jack, you have got to come up here."

"Why? What's going on?"

Ianto reached out to stroke the large branches of this impossible thing before him. Her stay with the Doctor was apparently good for her; the older TARDIS guided her through her growing pains -- well, at least that's the best Ianto could reckon. It was a feeling he got from her, just like the one that told him that she was here to stay. "Our baby is home."

~~o0o~~

Over the next few years, using scraps of alien tech as well as a few odds and ends from abandoned factories, they created a suitable home for their girl as well as sturdy vessel that allowed them to time travel without the headaches Ianto associated with Jack's Vortex Manipulator. However, their first few trips result in inconvenient break downs -- one of which stranded them in Chicago during the Jazz Age for six months. Luckily, they got back before the team noticed they were gone. On other trips, they aimed for one place, but landed in another. That was how they ended up in India, where they watched Alice pass out school supplies to a mob of eager children, mostly orphans, some the offspring of prostitutes. They stood outside the gates, but made no attempt to make contact. She didn't notice them. Jack didn't mind since he didn't want to ruin the moment. The children seemed to adore her, and she seemed to be at peace. Jack wrote down the name of the school, and when they got back, he made a sizeable donation in Stephen's name. He received a form letter thanking him for his generosity, signed by Jacob Hunt. It took seven years for Alice to sign the letter herself. The ink was smudged.

Of course, looking after their TARDIS didn't mean that they neglected their Torchwood duties. While monitoring the rift was always their biggest priority, it was not uncommon for Jack and Ianto to play the role of mediators between the government and alien groups. However, they never went into a meeting unprepared, and they always made sure they could evacuate the building in case things got ugly. They also took it upon themselves to draft the official alien amnesty policy for the UK that became the model for other countries, though they were never given credit for it, not that they wanted, nor needed, the attention. Being immortal always meant living in the shadows and being a secret only shared by a handful of elite government officials and a small circle of friends. To the rest of the world, Ianto and Jack were the stuff of urban legends -- as in a friend of a friend heard about someone who knew something about Ianto Jones, but that information could never be corroborated.

When humans began to colonize New Earth in earnest, Jack and Ianto adopted aliases while taking on more public duties. Because Ianto was renowned for his logistical skills, he became one of the Founding Parents of New Cardiff, the only one who asked to be kept out of the statue erected in the new Plass as well as the history books. The job was not as glamorous as it initially sounded since whatever plan he concocted for the fair allocation of resources never seemed to please everyone, and the opposition was always vocal and occasionally violent. Those were just the humans. Ianto also faced other alien groups who wanted to claim the planet as their own. Some were content to share, and Ianto was always in the front line when dealing with those who were not.

Yet, Ianto fared better than his partner. Jack stayed on Earth and played sheriff to a population that teetered on the edge of anarchy as the climate changed for the worse and resources began to dwindle. This separation was to be known as the dark era, and if it wasn't for their TARDIS, who allowed the lovers to escape for a few weeks within the span of five or ten minutes, Jack might have had a complete breakdown after watching people kill each other for a box of overripe fruit.

Let it never be said that these escapes weren't without moments of guilt. How could they bask in the glow of an island paradise when humanity was in turmoil? The answer was always a simple and rational one: because they had already endured so much, because they had so much more to endure. Unfortunately, simple and rational answers are not always comforting. In spite of their guilt, they learned not to take each other for granted and grew even closer as a result.

Yet, when the darkness passed (as darkness always passes), they both learned to look back at those years with satisfaction. They played their parts to keep humanity together. This was especially important to Ianto who for years had a nagging thought that he had come into this life strictly by chance. What he had done is bigger than himself, and he could hold his head up high because he made damn sure that his life mattered beyond his role as Jack's eternal lover. Not too shabby for a person who didn't think that there was anything particularly special about him to begin with.

It's now 3245, and he's still fighting the good fight, running his elite counter-terrorism unit with Jack. He's still protecting the rift, a different one of course. In fact, he named the city New Cardiff because of the rift that runs though it, and earlier in the week, the two rifts linked together, allowing pieces of the 21st Century to his current time and vice versa. (Unfortunately Manu's younger brother got caught in a fluctuation and inadvertently caused a car wreck in 2010 Cardiff. The poor kid was guilt ridden no matter how many times they told him that the accident was supposed to happen. If there was ever a time to dole out the Retcon…) But then, they got the signal, and everything stopped. Life had come full circle, and it led him back to the Caput-sihil Corporation in the city of Palenque on a planet called Ba'ak where, currently, Ianto Jones stares at himself, not at a reflection, but at the physical manifestation of his old self. In other words, Ianto stares at the man who died in Jack's arms at Thames House all those years ago.

Echo places the last enzyme disk in the pod and she gives Ianto the signal. The King pushes the button, and the body dissolves. There doesn't seem to be any point at keeping the body around anymore; therefore, after spending the last thousand years as a Popsicle, the former Ianto Jones can finally be sent into the ether.

Yet, it's hard not to think about his weaker moments when he thought about disposing of his body too soon so that it would never be cloned because it doesn't matter how many bullets he's taken for other people (and he's lost count by now) or how many times he saves the world, they always leave him in the end. Although he kept track of his family's bloodline, he never keeps in touch with any of them any more. With each passing generation, their DNA resembles Rhiannon's less and less, and the faces become stranger and stranger to the point where he doesn't feel a connection to them. Then, there are his friends and colleagues. Having had no natural children of his own, they become his surrogate family, and yet, he trains them to lay down their lives to save their home. He lost three soldiers this year alone; one of them died as the direct result of his orders. For the weeks following the incident, Jack had to hold him until he fell asleep.

In spite of all that, he needs other people. While his relationship with Jack is admittedly co-dependant, there are some roles that they cannot fulfill for each other: a doting mother, a proud father, a loyal brother. Add to that list, a loving sister. They also seek out the boisterous friend who demands more out of them, the quiet friend who listens to them without judgment, and the cantankerous friend who tells them how it is. Jack is his refuge and his home, but those are the people who remind him what he's fighting for.

One of those people is Echo, who offers him her arm as they walk out of the cryo room. "It was odd seeing you so young."

"I think I've aged well."

"Yes, you have. You still look very young. What I meant it that it's in the eyes… It's hard to explain… You were an old soul back then. It was obvious that you'd seen a lot, but not as much as you've seen now." She stops in the middle of the hallway and shakes her head. "Grrr, that sounds stupid."

"Not at all."

"I liked the suit," she says. "Why don't you ever wear pinstripes anymore?"

Ianto looks down at his current suit; it's a sort of homage to the classic mid-28th Century suit, which was an homage to the 1960s. He's even taken to wearing a fedora these days. "I suppose I never thought about it," he says in answer to her question.

"Manu, Kalinda and I once put together a fashion timeline for you. Let's see… last century, you went through a leather phase. Then, before that, there was that space cowboy phase and before that, the military look, which was quite fetching. Of course, Kalinda liked you in those shirts with the names of old rock bands on them, back when you were scruffy."

"I think it's fun to reinvent myself every now and then."

"I suppose it keeps things fresh between you and the Big Man."

Ianto shrugs. "It helps." But it's not necessary when they have something more profound that keeps them together.

"However, he never changes."

"Nope. That look suited him then, and it suits him now."

"I suppose so, but it's this thing with you men, isn't it? You always have to look slightly out of time."

"That's because we are," he says in a stage-whisper.

"Right," she says. "You know, it was fun toying with you."

He narrows her eyes at her.

"Oh, come on," she protests. "Jack liked it."

"Hmm…" Ianto replies.

"You know it's true."

They walk outside where a car is waiting for her. He hesitates before opening the door for her.

He salutes her. "And how are things here at Torchwood Palenque?" She's officially been in charge for two months.

She salutes him back. "Good."

"We miss you. Damn you for earning that promotion."

"Hey, you boys are the ones who offered it to me."

They hug, and she slips into the car. As he watches his protégée drive into traffic, he remembers when Jack plucked her out of the Xaspertine fleet. She was pretty, but not the most gorgeous member of her company; she had plenty of ambition, but so did all of them. However, there was something about her that provoked an intense feeling of déjà vu in both him and Jack, or maybe they just liked her because she had one of those faces that made her appear like she was up to no good most of the time. It wasn't until he opened the time-locked container that everything about Echo fell into place. How she laughed her ass off when she found out that the Bosses had to go rescue themselves.

With a sigh, he looks around at the foliage that covers the city. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful it was, as well as the unique perfume in the air. Yet, in the midst of the florals and the spices, there's one scent that is satisfyingly familiar.

Ianto stops at the coffee cart outside the Caput-sihil building and carefully carries a tray with four cups of coffee to the building across the street. Then, he takes the lift all the way to the roof where Kirby, a bald pensioner who maintains the garden, greets him.

"Got a little something for you," Ianto says, handing the man a cup of coffee as a small token of appreciation for allowing him to park his ride in his little piece of urban Eden.

"Oh, that was kind of you," Kirby replies.

"Jack?"

"In that box of yours," the gardener says, pointing to the blue shed.

Ianto holds up the tray of coffee. "I'd better get this to him."

Kirby sits on his lounge chair and sips his coffee, gazing up at the window where the young Ianto Jones once looked out at him.

Ianto steps into the shed and says, "Hello, darling."

He places the coffee tray on the console and strokes the buttons lovingly, and TARDIS responds by purring sweetly. Ianto takes off his suit jacket and hangs it up on the chair. Then, kneeling down on the floor, he carefully pours the contents of one of the cups down into the grate, and the machinery whirrs and beeps with pleasure while sparks fly as the circuitry wakes up.

"You spoil her," Jack says as he enters the main control room.

"That's why she likes me best," he replies.

Jack gestures at the coffee on the tray and asks, "This for me?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, sometimes I get the feeling that you love her more than me."

Ianto chuckles. "How many times do I have to tell you? I love both of you equally, just in different ways."

Jack sits on the floor, next to Ianto. He kisses the younger man, nibbling on Ianto's bottom lip before using his tongue to open the stubborn man's mouth. Ianto pulls away, playing hard, which given their history is highly unnecessary and perhaps very adolescent, but he likes having Jack chase him. And when he relents… oh, Dear God… There are days when Ianto wonders if they are still together out of habit or because they have no idea how to function without each other anymore, but then Jack kisses him in a way that makes him melts.

"We don't have to be back in New Cardiff until Friday until noon," Jack says.

"What are you thinking?"

"A quick trip to the Mines of Nordex 5."

"Why would you want to take me to a pit in the ground?"

"So many reflective surfaces. It'll be like having sex in a hall of mirrors."

"Sold," Ianto says as he springs to his feet.

The men run around the console, pulling levers and turning knobs. Sometimes, Ianto doesn't know if these shenanigans actually do anything. For all he knows, the TARDIS is doing all of the work, but it's fun. And it makes his heart race. And he feels so alive. Jack pulls him close, like he's never gonna let go.

Yes, Ianto Jones could say that he stumbled upon this life or that he was forced into it. Yet despite being stuck in it, it's moments like these when he knows deep in his gut, he wouldn't change a damned thing. Jack presses his lips on Ianto's temple; the feeling is mutual.

* * *

**A/N:** Now, if RTD would only bring Ianto back and make him and Jack happy, I would accept the events of CoE. *sigh*


End file.
